Guns for Hire
by keewritestrashh
Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events
1. soap bubbles

It had been a long day at work, yet you got off early . You were dead on your feet. Your body ached and your head hurt like crazy. Slowly you drug yourself up to your front door and placed the key in the lock.

Loud, excited barks sounded on the other side of the door as the lock clicked back. You braced yourself for the shower of tongues and dog breath you were about to recieve on the other side of this door.

With a deep breath you pushed the door open. As you had expected, Kira and Willow all but bowled you over as you slipped inside.

The two large, black dogs whimpered and pranced excitedly as you stooped down to embrace them.

"Where's daddy?" You cooed, standing up right and looking around.

The house was empty. You frowned, walking into the kitchen and flipping on the light switch.

A hasty, blood stained note on the door of the refrigerator. You leaned into it to see Ramsay's messy scrawl,

 ** _"Baby girl, going to be late this evening. Funny story. I will treat you to dinner tomorrow night. Sorry about the paper, was all I could find… I love you."_**

You took the paper off the fridge and crumpled it up. This whole mob thing was getting old.

Sure, you loved the money your husband brought home. Yeah, you were an expert at getting blood stains out of all kinds of things. From clothes to car upholstery. But Ramsay enjoyed it too much.

Sometimes he was reckless. You were sure the damn FBI were watching, waiting.

You had become almost as good at sutures as any doctor. But it hurt you to have to dig bullets out of your husband, tend to his scrapes and gashes, and see him in pain.

Not that the pain ever stopped him from giving you anything you wanted. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on. You were his obsession.

It had started three years ago, on a rainy, halloween night, at the bar you worked at. The alcohol was flowing, the patrons were having the time of their lives, and you were rolling in tips.

You had dressed up as a "sexy fox" when a man took a seat in front of you at the counter. He had dressed like a 30s mobster, and those big blue eyes caught yours immediately. After a couple drinks he tipped you handsomely, leaving his number.

As soon as the bar had closed up you text the number and the rest was history.

Finding out he was part of a big organized crime family, well, it somehow didn't come as a horrifying shock. You loved him. Maybe that made you a freak, but he never hurt you. Unless you asked him to, of course.

Whenever you had a problem or someone upset you… well, it wouldn't ever happen again.

He called you his baby girl. His diamond. His gem. And he spoiled the shit out of you. The police department and general public called him the "bloodbath psycho" on the news and in the papers, though they had no idea who he was. But to you, he was your lover. Your protector. Your world. But you knew that if you ever even _thought_ about leaving, you'd be as dead as that man who grabbed your ass at the bar you still worked at.

Ramsay was a jealous guy. He had his men keep tabs on you. He didn't like anyone to talk to, much lesstouchhis property. Sure, maybe it wasn't healthy, and maybe he was overly possessive, but in his own fucked up way he loved you and kept you happy.

You looked around the empty house. It was spotless, other than dishes in the sink. Ramsay was a clean freak. Everything had to be clean, **HIS** way or he would go off on a tangent. His obsession with cleanliness is what made him good at his job. Never a shred of evidence. And by having you keep your job and lead a normal life, no one was none the wiser.

You let the dogs out back, and returned to the kitchen. You plugged your phone in the speaker on the counter and began to fill the sink with hot water, going a little overboard on the bubbles, because why the fuck not?

You had managed to wash a couple of cups before getting sidetracked, watching the dogs wrestle in the dark yard. But you weren't really watching. You were lost in thought. You didn't get nearly as many tips as you had wanted. Maybe that was Ramsay's fault.

Sometimes you thought he purposely made sure you didn't make enough money, so he could be your crutch. But, it had been a slow day. It was only Wednesday. Only the regulars had been in this evening. But there was an even bigger piece of information grabbing at your throat, that made you a bit uneasy.

Hands on your hips made you jump, giving a small gasp as Ramsay slouched slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning back into him.

"You scared the shit out of me." You whispered, giving him a side long glance.

He smirked and nipped your ear. "I know, babydoll. What were you so lost in thought about?"

"Nothing." You replied casually.

"Mmm, baby, you know better than to lie to me." He purred, taking your earlobe between his teeth and biting down gently.

You made a small noise, pushing back into him more.

"Just not happy with what I made tonight."

Ramsay pulled away from you, releasing his hands from your hips. You turned around to face him, leaning against the sink.

"And how much would make you happy?" He asked, crossing his arms and quirking a brow.

You shrugged, turning back to finish the dishes.

Ramsay cleared his throat. You had upset him. But, he had upset you too. He had promised dinner tonight, and he didn't deliver. Maybe you were a spoiled brat, but it hurt your feelings. You had been looking forward to it for two days. You even took off work early.

"You're mad." He said simply.

You placed a clean knife in the strainer. "Yes," You replied curtly.

"Well, I wasn't happy about canceling my plans with you. But it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

"Mmm." You huffed sourly.

Ramsay tutted and pulled you towards him.

"Tomorrow."

"Which is not _today_." You said pouting.

Ramsay took your soapy hands into his and gave a small smirk. He pulled his hand away, now soapy as well and wiped soap on the end of your nose.

"And what could master do to make it up to his good little girl?" He growled in a husky voice.

You melted into him, wiping your soapy hand across his cheek and giving a sly grin. "I don't know. I've been such a good girl lately, but I haven't been rewarded with anything. It's hurting me."

You slid your wet hands up Ramsay's shirt and clawing at his soft skin.

Ramsay clashed his mouth with yours, grabbing your ass and squeezing almost painfully hard.

"Your attitude doesn't really warrant a reward, little pet." He murmured against your lips.

"Please, baby?" You whimpered, pouting again.

Ramsay took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled roughly. You whimpered again, feeling desire twist up in your stomach and warmth spread between your legs. You slid your hands from his chest to his belt buckle.

"Maybe after I'm done with your punishment. How do you want to be punished?" Ramsay whispered, a gleam in his deep blue eyes.

"Would a spanking be enough?" You asked looking up at him innocently through your lashes, fumbling with his belt buckle.

" _A_ spanking? No, baby girl. Needs to be more than that, or the lesson won't sink in."

You smirked, "Maybe I don't want the lesson to sink in."

Ramsay raised his brows and swept his eyes over you. He pulled away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen table. He all but tore your skimpy blouse away, and hastily unlatched your bra, throwing it aside.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he took you in. "Pants off." He demanded.

You did as you were told. You kicked your pants aside and slid your thong slowly down your legs.

"Bend over the table." He panted, pulling his belt off.

Again, you did as you were told. Slightly afraid of what was to come next.

Sometimes he hurt you more than you found enjoyable. He had a malicious twinkle in his eyes that made you afraid that tonight would be one of those nights where he was a bit too rough. You loved the kink and the things he did to you. It was such a rush, but sometimes he could get carried away.

You drew in a sharp breath as you felt his hand rest against the bare flesh of your ass, ready for the belt to come into contact.

"Count every other one, baby doll. If you can get to _ten_ without faltering I'll make the hurt go away." Ramsay said, grabbing your hip tightly, to hold you steady.

"Yes sir." You said clenching your teeth and closing your eyes tightly.

The first strike fell, making you gasp.

"One." You breathed, clutching the edge of the table until your knuckles were white.

You gasped through every lash against your skin. It was hot and raw. Each time the belt came into contact with you a deeper ache formed.

"Ni-nine." You managed to get out, trying to hold back tears. "Ramsay, please. You're hurting me."

He ignored you. You clenched your jaw and swallowed the cry forcing to escape you as the final lash fell.

"Ten!" You cried out, feeling your body shake as your knees weakened from relief.

Ramsay cast the belt aside, and dropped to his knees, kissing along the welts he had made. Slowly he ran his fingers along each raised bit of skin. You gave a sigh and relaxed your body against the table.

Ramsay gently ran his hands all over your body and kissed up the curve of your back. He pulled away from you, running his finger back down along your spine.

"Turn around." He breathed, pulling his shirt off.

You pushed yourself up off the table and turned to face your husband. He picked you up and sat you on the edge of the table. The cool surface felt so good against the burning skin on your ass.

You spread your legs, pulling Ramsay into you and kissing him deeply.

"You won't get an attitude with me anymore?" He asked, trailing a finger up your thigh.

"No sir. Unless you ask me to." You murmured, closing your eyes and relaxing your body completely as his fingers danced ever closer to your entrance.

"Good girl." He growled, kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

You heaved a sigh as he took your sensitive flesh between his teeth and worried a spot on your neck. You snaked your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair as he slid a finger inside you, making a noise in the back of his throat.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you enjoyed being spanked." He whispered, spreading your wetness around. His hot breath on your ear making you shiver as your cheeks flushed.

"I'd be even more wet for you if you let me hurt you." You panted out, as he inserted another finger.

"And how could you possibly hurt me, baby girl?" He coaxed, curling his fingers.

You let a grin form, removing your fingers from his hair and wrapping them around him, under his arms.

"Like this." You whispered, kissing him deeply and digging your freshly manicured stiletto nails into his back.

He made a noise deep in his throat and kissed you harder, forcing his tongue in your mouth. You opened your mouth under his and moaned into his mouth as his free hand brushed over your breasts.

He grabbed one breast firmly, pulling and twisting on your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

You arched your back and shifted on the table, pulling him closer into you. The ache between you legs almost painful as he continued to tease you with his fingers.

You explored his mouth with your tongue, not bothering to keep your teeth from clashing with his. Small noises escaped you as your chest rose and fell rapidly.

Ramsay pulled away from you and removed his fingers from you. He spread the clear, stickiness between his fingers, wiping them across your lips. Slowly you ran your tongue along your bottom lip, tasting yourself.

He watched you closely through narrowed eyes. You stared back, seeing a fire burn behind the glittering orbs. He sucked his fingers clean and stepped back into you, roughly taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

"I wanna feel the walls shake." You purred when he released your lip, kissing down your neck again.

"I don't know if you're ready for that, baby girl." He murmured, kissing down your chest. His hot breathing giving you chills as he ghosted his lips across your nipple before nipping lightly.

Your breath hitched and you gripped his hair as he traveled further down your body. Clutching the edge of the table he lowered himself to his knees between your legs.

Your heart hammered in your chest. It had been too long since he had been like this between your legs. He had been so busy lately, as had you, and by the time both of you were naked it had been sloppy, half hearted sex.

You mewled as he slowly moved his bottom lip over your sensitive spot, sending a warm tingle through every inch of you. Your breathing coming more rapid and labored as he kissed over you folds, before finally parting you with his tongue.

You arched your back and moaned, laying back on the table, shifting to allow him better access.

He gripped your thighs in his rough hands and humming against you as he lapped up your wetness.

"Oh baby. How could you let me forget how good you taste?" He murmured, burying his tongue deeper inside you.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as every particle inside you screamed for your release.

"Ram-ra…" You panted, clutching at his hair to pull him up.

You felt him smirk against you as he grabbed your hands and pulled them away from him, holding them down at your side's.

"Baby, please. I… i can't…" You whimpered as your body began to seize up.

Ramsay pulled away from you, his evil grin in place as he looked up at you. You looked back at him through heavy lidded eyes, your chest rising and falling.

"You better slow down. You're not getting out of this so easy. I went through enough hell to get home to you tonight. You don't get to cum until I tell you that you can. We don't want to be punished again, do we?" He said in a husky growl.

"Fuck me. Break this table. I don't care. I _need_ to feel you." You begged, biting your bottom lip.

His face softened slightly and he rose from his knees, unbuttoning his pants.

"Up." He said, pushing his pants down.

Slowly you slid off the table. He grabbed your hip in a painful grip and pulled you into him as he stepped out of his pants. He pushed you up against the wall, biting at your neck as he pushed himself flush to you. You clutched at his hips, pulling him closer still as you felt his throbbing length against you.

He grabbed under your ass and made to lift you when his phone rang. You both stood still in mid action. You watched his eye give a twitch as he clenched his jaw. He pulled away from you, groping for his phone in his discarded pants.

"What?" He growled menacingly when he answered it.

You heard Yellow Dick's voice, or whatever his name was, on the other end.

' _There's a cop out here poking his nose around shit_.'

"So, kill him. I'm trying to fuck my wife. Do whatever needs to be done, you stupid cunt." Ramsay raged, hanging up and dropping his phone. He turned back to you.

You must have had an uncomfortable look of sorts on your face because he studied you for a long minute before cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours.

"You're worried." He whispered in your ear, running his fingers down your side's.

"A bit." You replied shyly.

He grinned, "I won't let you bury me baby girl." He took your hand and pulled you through the dark house to your bedroom. He picked you up and dropped you on the bed, climbing on top of you.

"Don't close your eyes." He said in a demanding tone.

That was always your weakness and it irked him. You always closed your eyes when you met your high. He complained it took away from his because he wasn't able to watch it happen.He couldn't see the moment your pupils blew in bliss.

You gave a small nod and gasped as he pushed himself roughly into you. You dug your nails in his side as you rolled your hips into his.

Every thrust came harder and deeper as you arched your back and clashed your hips with his, finding rhythm with him. His chest rose and fell with yours, and his body became sweaty and rigid.

He grabbed, kissed, and bit every inch of you he could without losing his perfect sync with you. Making deep noises from time to time as you dug your nails into him and pulled his hair.

You steadily grew louder with your noises as every movement built the anticipation of your high.

"Scream baby doll. Scream for me." He cooed in a throaty voice that almost sounded like a plea, as his rhythm fell out of step.

You took him in. You rarely ever heard that tone in his voice. It was as close as begging as you would ever get from him. It pushed you over the edge and you fought to look him in the eye was your body seized in pleasure and you let out a cry of pure adrenaline and ecstasy, pushing your body into his as hard as you could.

Ramsay let a smirk form as he let a deep guttural moan escape him, falling into you as he came inside of you. He buried his face in your neck, breathing shallowly.

Your chest rose and fell against his as you gently ran your nails over his back with one hand and curled the hair at the nape of his neck around the fingers of your free hand.

"Harder." He mumbled into the bed spread beneath you, wiping his sweaty hairline against the comforter.

You traced your nails harder over his back and felt him give a violent shiver and relax into you completely.

He laid like this on you for awhile longer before pushing himself up and sliding out of you.

He nipped at your neck and you pushed him away, giggling. He chuckled and rolled off of you with a satisfied sigh, lacing his fingers in yours.

You both laid there in silence for awhile, staring at the dark ceiling.

"Rams?" You whispered.

"Yes, baby girl?" He hummed back.

"I'm pregnant."


	2. wolves at the door

"When did you find out?" Ramsay asked, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame as you peed on the fourth pregnancy test.

"Only this morning." You said with a sigh, replacing the cap and setting it next to the other three that all read positive. "I was hoping to tell you at dinner tonight. _But_..." You added, giving your husband a frown.

He pushed off the door frame and watched, for the fourth time, the lines read positive.

It was hard to tell what was going through his head. Was he mad? Excited? Scared? Happy?

"Who all knows?" He asked, glancing over at you as you washed your hands.

"Just you baby." You said, reassuringly, drying your hands off.

Ramsay nodded. "You're making a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning." With that he left you alone in the bathroom.

You were a bit afraid. It wasn't that he had shown no emotion, it was that you didn't know the emotion he had etched on his face. It was foreign and unknown to you. Was he making you set up an appointment for an abortion? The thought made your stomach hurt.

You let out a yawn and walked toward the bed. You had been so ready for bed after sex, but then Ramsay demanded going and buying pregnancy tests.

Kira raised her head off the floor a bit when you entered the bedroom. You gave her a loving nudge with your toe before climbing into bed, heaving a deep sigh as you sunk into your squashy pillow.

A few moments later Ramsay came to bed. What happened next made you want to cry in happiness. Once under the covers he pulled you into him, nuzzled your neck, and placed his hand protectively over your stomach.

"I love you, baby girl." He whispered.

You let a small smile tug your lips, "I love you too, baby."

The smell of bacon and coffee woke you. You looked around through bleary eyes and stifled a yawn. The clock on the bedside table read 8:17.

You sat up, running your hand through your hair, casting around for your bathrobe. You slid out of bed and opened the closet door. No bathrobe hanging up.

' _Laundry room_.' You thought with a sigh, grabbing the silk robe instead.

It was really too cold as the cold December air seemed to seep into your hardwood floor. You shrugged into your robe and made your way to the kitchen.

The table was set with a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. A cup of coffee waiting for you. Ramsay was nowhere to be found. He must have been outside smoking.

You sat in the chair and tucked into your food. Once you had eaten your fill you looked around the spotless kitchen, thinking back to the night before. You sipped your coffee, absentmindedly running your hand over your stomach.

Ramsay came into the kitchen, whistling. You looked up and offered a small smile. He narrowed his eyes and gave you a sweet smile back.

"Go get ready. We have a doctor's appointment at eleven thirty." He said, clapping his hands together, and taking your plate away.

"Uhm, okay, love." You said, rising from your chair.

"I need to go into the office after, so one of the guys will bring you home. We have dinner reservations at six."

You smiled to yourself walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on. It had been weeks since your husband had taken you out to eat, and you were excited. Though, you were also nervous about the appointment in three hours.

"How cold is it outside?" You called from your closet.

"Cold enough." Ramsay called back.

You nodded to yourself grabbing a sweater and pair of skinny jeans. After dressing you pulled on your boots and walked back to the bathroom to fix your hair and make up.

"Come on baby girl, let's go!"

"Coming!" You called from the bathroom, finishing up your hair.

Ramsay held out your coat and purse when you reached the front door.

You felt extremely out of place in this waiting room. You felt way over dressed as you looked around at the women in the room. Ramsay sat, impatiently tapping his foot until the nurse opened the door and called your name.

Ramsay possessively grabbed your hand and pushed you forward to walk in front of him as the nurse led you back.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bolton." The nurse said kindly, as she indicated you to step on the scale.

"Good morning!" You said brightly, as she took down your weight.

"So what are we doing today?" The nurse asked, leading you to an empty room.

"Well, yesterday five pregnancy tests informed me that I'm pregnant." You said, as Ramsay helped you up onto the examination bed.

"First?" The nurse asked, making a note.

"Yes." You breathed in excitement, cheeks flushing.

The nurse smiled kindly, "can you tell me the last day of your cycle?"

You frowned, trying to remember. "Uh..."

"Second week of September." Ramsay spoke up.

Nothing slipped past him. In a weird way it was like he knew everything. Especially when it came to you.

The nurse nodded, writing another note. She then smiled at you again.

"Alright, let's get some blood drawn and a urine analysis and then Doctor Stark will be with you and we'll see what we can see."

You nodded, sliding off the table and following the nurse. You glanced back at Ramsay who looked uncomfortable with letting you leave without him.

Five minutes later the nurse returned you to your room and you sat nervously on the examination bed while Ramsay sat in a chair, stared out the window. Every so often he would glance down at his watch and jiggle his foot.

Finally there was a knock on the door and the doctor entered as Ramsay stood quickly, taking his place beside you.

The doctor was a lovely looking woman, who was maybe old enough to be your mother. She had kindly blue eyes and deep auburn hair.

She held her hand out to shake Ramsay's hand.

"I'm Doctor Stark. But feel free to call me Cat." She took a seat on her stool and glanced down at the clipboard she was holding.

"So, I believe a congratulations are in order. Mother's urine sample and blood shows she is in perfect health and baby will do just fine. And this is your first?"

"Yes ma'am." You said, unable to keep the grin off your face.

"Never had any miscarriages before?" The doctor questioned.

You shook your head, "no. But I've been trying for a couple years. Was about ready to give it up as a lost cause. But here we are."

"Here we are." Doctor Cat echoed, writing more things on her clipboard. "Okay, well, you seem healthy, your weight is good, I want you to start taking prenatals, and we will get the Doppler in here to see if we can hear a heartbeat."

You chewed your lip and gave a nod.

You held back tears, gripping Ramsay's hand as the tiny heartbeat came through the speaker of the Doppler.

Ramsay clenched his jaw and fought back a grin.

"I would say we are about eight to nine weeks. Next appointment we will get an ultrasound done, and see exactly how well the little one is doing." Doctor Cat said, with a smile.

The woman at the front desk handed you a slip of paper with your next appointment. You thanked her, smiling brightly, as Ramsay led you from the office. Your smile faltered slightly as you saw Damon's car parked next to yours.

"I won't be long." Ramsay said, pressing a kiss to your temple and then stepping into Damon. "She will get home safe or even Satan himself will have pity on you." He growled so threateningly it made your blood run cold.

"Y-yes, of course." Damon trembled, opening the door for you.

You said nothing as Damon wound his way out of the downtown. You didn't like him. Something about him made you uneasy. But he was Ramsay's right hand. He had more brains than some of the men Ramsay had employed.

"You hungry, ma'am?" Damon asked, waiting on the stoplight to turn green.

"No. Thank you though." You said, watching a group of people hurry across the street, bundled against the harsh December wind and laden with shopping bags.

You were curled up on the couch, under a blanket, reading when both dogs sat up and growled at the front door. You peered at them in interest as the doorbell rang.

You hurried to the door as the dogs barked. Peering out the peep hole you saw two men in suits standing on your door step.

Slowly you opened the door.

The taller of the two, a auburn haired man gave you a smile, while the sandy haired man gave you a nod.

"Mrs. Bolton?" The auburn haired man asked, flashing a badge.

Your stomach dropped, but you put on a sweet smile, "Yes. May I help you gentlemen?"

"We have a few questions for you. I'm Detective Stark and this is my partner Detective Greyjoy."

"Yes, of course. Please, come in out of the cold." You said opening the door wider. Kira and Willow on your heels, emitting low, rumbling growls. You snapped your fingers and the dogs reluctantly retreated across the room to their beds, but never taking their eyes off the men.

You motioned to the empty love seat and the two detectives sat down.

"Can I offer you gentlemen anything to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" You asked taking your seat, and folding your blanket up.

"No thank you." Detective Greyjoy said, eyeing you up and down.

Your phone lit up on the coffee table.

 _[Ramsay: 5 min]_

"If you'll excuse me a second." You said, picking your phone up and hitting call.

' _Yes babydoll?_ ' Ramsay said on the other end.

"Hey, wanted to finish up that cake for your father. Can you bring home some sugar?" You said, looking down at the coffee table.

' _Of course, baby. See you soon. I love you_.'

"Be careful. I love you too." You said, hanging up and turning back to the detectives. "Sorry, I just wanted to catch him before he got home. Really don't wanna be out in this cold."

 _'Bring home some sugar'_ was your code phrase to let Ramsay know unexpected company had shown up.

"Not a problem at all. But, last night a man was murdered behind the bar you work at. Reports say you were the last one to see him." Detective Stark said, pulling a picture from his jacket pocket and laying it on the coffee table and sliding it towards you.

You picked up the photo with trembling fingers and taking in a sharp gasp. "Oh my god." It was a picture of Dogbait Farlan as he was known at the bar. You looked up from the picture, trying to remember yesterday. You had been feeling ill and were only half there.

"What... what happened?" You asked, looking between the two men.

"Stabbed to death it seems." Greyjoy spoke, glancing around your house. "Awfully nice place for someone who works at a bar."

His partner gave him a scowl.

You bristled, "I've been working at the bar since I was eighteen. The customers love me and tip me well. Besides i co-own it, if you _must_ know. And my husband works at the bank. We don't hurt for money, thank you."

"Please forgive my partner's rudeness. He's having a bad day it seems." Stark spoke up quickly.

You pursed your lips and turned your gaze to the red head, "is your mother the OBGYN at the place down town?"

The man nodded.

"I saw her today. She confirmed my pregnancy." You said, making small talk. If you could keep them talking until Ramsay got home you'd feel better.

"Congratulations. You must be excited."

You nodded, smiling. Glancing up as Ramsay entered the house, looking rather goofy with a bag of sugar. He gave you a quick look and then ran his eyes over the detectives.

Both men stood, pulling their badges. Ramsay gave a nod. You watched him take an interest in the Greyjoy man.

"Has my wife done something I should know about? Money laundering? Murder? Grand theft auto, perhaps?" Ramsay asked, dropping the sugar on the coffee table and taking a seat beside you.

Detective Stark gave a laugh, putting his badge away, and sitting down again. "No, sir. But we had information that she was the last one to speak to our murder victim last night before we was found dead behind the bar.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ramsay narrow his slightly.

 _Bastard_. You knew it. It was him. It had to be.

"So, what can you tell us?" Greyjoy asked.

"Well, I mean, it was a slow evening. Just the regulars. I left early. I wasn't feeling well and had a date with my husband. But by the time I got home I was feeling too bad to go out. But as far as the bar... Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly. Farlan was my last customer before clocking out, yes. He ordered a beer, drank it, and left. He wasn't with anyone that I know of, and he didn't seem distressed in any way. He was telling me about his new litter of hounds and was just regular ol' Farlan. Sorry if I'm not much help. I can't believe... I mean... He was a good guy." You said, playing up emotion at the end. Ramsay drapped his arm around your shoulders and gave you a small squeeze. To let you know you were playing your part wonderfully.

"No enemies? He didn't owe anyone any money or favors?" Stark asked.

You frowned, shaking your head. "Not that I'm aware of. He was a pretty quiet man. After him and his wife divorced he kept himself to himself mostly."

The detectives exchanged looks, telling you they were back to square one. Stark sighed and rose from his seat.

He held his hand out to you and Ramsay in turn.

"Thank you for your time. If you hear anything, please give us a call."

"Of course. Good luck." Ramsay said politely, showing the men to the door.

Once they were gone, Ramsay clicked the lock and watched as they drove away. He then walked over to the chair they sat in and pulled all the cushions and pillows, examining every inch.

He stood back up and turned to you.

You grinned at him, picking up the bag of sugar. "We may have more sugar than anyone in the world now. When the apocalypse happens we can make our fortune selling sugar." You giggled.

Ramsay snorted, following you to the kitchen.

"Did you do it?" You asked casually, glancing at your husband over your shoulder as you placed the bag of sugar on a shelf in the pantry.

"No. Wasn't us. We were across town."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "Then who? I mean, who'd want to kill that man? Everyone loved him."

Ramsay shrugged, stepping into you and pulling you into him.

"Go get ready for dinner."

"I didn't like that one detective. He was rude." You said, slipping your dress on and pulling your hair aside so Ramsay could zip it.

He kissed along your bare skin before pulling the zipper up.

"Rude, how?" He asked, placing a diamond necklace around your neck and clasping it.

You fingered the new necklace and stared at it in the mirror.

"Rams, this is beautiful." You whispered.

"Thought my little momma might like it when I saw it in the window. Now, tell me about the detective." Ramsay said, kissing your cheek.

You turned to face him, "he was just all like, ' _this is an awfully nice place for someone who works at a bar_.' Fucking rude ass."

You saw the gears turning behind your husband's eyes.

"Don't do anything stupid, please." You added quickly.

Ramsay smirked, "I would do no such thing, baby girl."

"Liar." You whispered, pressing your lips to his.

His grin widened against your lips, but said nothing as he kissed you back.


	3. poker face

"What do you want for Christmas? I never know what to get you." You asked, as Ramsay opened the car door for you.

Dinner had been wonderful and it was so nice to spend a whole evening with Ramsay. He left his phone in the car. No interruptions. He had given you his full, undivided attention. Sometimes it was nice to be reminded that you were everything to him. More than money. More than killing. And now that you were pregnant he was even more clingy and paid even more attention to your every movement. Some may have found this uncomfortable, but you knew better.

"Don't know, baby doll. Find me a new project. I'm bored, now that this one is finished." Ramsay said, closing his door.

You glanced around the inside of the recently finished '72 Nova. He had put a lot of time and work into it. You had started to hate the damn car, but it _had_ kept him from being gone and killing people all the damn time.

"Well, what would you like to work on?" You asked, running your hand over the dash.

"A truck or something. I don't care, baby. Something to keep at the garage." Ramsay said, shrugging, turning the motor over.

As the car roared into life you glanced across the street and gave a tiny gasp.

You looked down at your lap.

"Babe, don't look, but it's that asshole detective from this afternoon. He's watching us."

Ramsay frowned, giving you a side long look and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his dinner jacket pocket. He took the opportunity while rolling down the window and lighting his cigarette to eye the detective.

"Call Damon." He demanded, throwing the car in reverse and dropping his phone in your lap.

You picked up his phone and scrolled to find Damon's number. You hit call and then hit speaker.

" _Sup boss_?" Damon's voice said when he answered.

"Poker night. My place. Nine. Tell the others." Ramsay said, reaching to your lap and hitting the end button.

He glanced up in the rearview mirror, but no one was behind you.

"Have you ever seen him before this afternoon?" Ramsay asked, glancing at you.

You shook your head. "No."

"I want you to take some time off. A couple weeks. Until the New Year is over." Ramsay said, resting his hand on your thigh and gently running his fingers over the hem of your dress, causing warmth to spread through you.

"Well... I already put in for some time off. My last day is Sunday. I thought that maybe we could go spend the holidays with your father." You said, not looking at Ramsay.

His grip on your thigh tightened and relaxed, "why?" He asked, glancing in the mirror again.

You gave a shrug, tugging on a loose string of hair.

"It's been awhile. And I thought we could break the news to him. I mean, his first grandchild. That's exciting."

Ramsay smirked, "yeah. Okay. Sure. We need away from here for a few days."

Something about his smirk made you feel uneasy.

Ramsay held you close in his lap as he smoked like a chimney, drank like a sailor, and hustled the group of men at poker. You figured by now the group would have learned to quit playing with Ramsay. You weren't sure how he did it, but he always ended up with much more than he started with.

You rested your head back in the crook of his neck, kissing his warm skin softly from time to time or planting bite marks as he rubbed firm circles on the small of your back with his free hand.

"So, give me the scoop from the Southside." Ramsay said, looking over at Damon, setting his cards down, and taking a long drink from his glass.

"Got a bunch of copycats going on. Trying to copy our style. Still working out on if it's a rival family or just some dumbass street punks. But until we know for sure we need to be careful. Someone may be trying to frame us and set a trap." Damon said, laying his cards on the table as well and rubbing his eyed.

You felt Ramsay tense under you.

"Don't worry baby. Our hands are clean." You whispered in his ear, massaging his scalp with your nails.

He pushed his head back into your hand and closed his eyes briefly.

"What's going on in the rest of my city?" He asked, peeking at another man.

"Quiet on our side. Dropped a few dealers who were trying to undermine us. Employed a few more girls. Got a few new recruites you need to look at. But that's about it."

Ramsay nodded, "alright, well I need a man down at the ol' police station. Need to have eyes on a Detective Greyjoy. I want it done by tomorrow afternoon. I want to know his every movement."

"Of course. I have a couple guys I can put in there. No problem." A man named Ben spoke up. Ben was third in line, and he often dealt with the drug distribution. He had contacts everywhere.

You slid from Ramsay's lap. He grabbed your hand. You tugged it back and gave him a wink as you left the dinning room.

"Where you going, baby doll?" He called after you.

"Bath." You called back, shutting the bed room door with a sharp snap.

You stepped out of your dress and under clothes, letting them pool on the bathroom floor as you stepped into the bath tub. You sunk into the hot water with a sigh.

You felt like you could lay in this hot water forever. The cold day was turning into an even colder night. A good chance of snow according to the local news.

You hoped not, you did not want to go to work in cold ass snow.

Finally, you mustered the strength to climb out of the tub. Your stomach crammped horribly and you wanted nothing more than it to stop, tired of the constant pain and nauseous feeling that seemed more pronounced than in last couple weeks before you found out you were pregnant. You slipped on one of Ramsay's button ups and peeked out into the hall. All was quiet.

Slowly, you walked down the hall to find Ramsay scrubbing the dinning room table down. His sleeves rolled up a bit, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and humming to himself. His face was flushed and eyes bloodshot as he gave you a quick, side long glance.

You took a seat at the table and watched him vigorously scrub the wood. You tapped your nails on the table.

"What's your deal with being so clean?" You asked, for probably the millionth time since you had started dating him.

He gave you another glance and tilted his head slightly. "Nasty filth. Dirty world."

You had no idea what that meant. He said that a lot. When the guys talked about whores they were sleeping with. When he inspected narco shipments. When he stayed up all night cleaning every inch of the house.

He was truly a strange duck, but you liked his little quirks. He kept his ass covered. He was thorough in everything. And he was all yours. He didn't fuck with whores. They repulsed him. He didn't do any drugs, ' _if the dealer uses there's no money to be made in it'_ he had once told you. Sometimes he may smoke a joint or two with the guys, but that was about the extent of it. Though he had been known to bump a line or two before you became his obsession. But he had a problem with cigarettes and especially alcohol.

He had the air of being better and smarter than everyone else. Maybe that was true. The people he controlled with money and drugs all disgusted him. He had no problem using the people of course, but he was cold, cruel, and often times legitimately murderous towards them.

"Are you okay?" You asked gently, rising from the chair and walking around the table to him.

He stood up straight and ran his eyes over you in that hauntingly, calculating way.

"If I said no?" He asked, smashing his cigarette butt in the ashtray.

You unbuttoned the shirt and let it fall to the ground.

"I'd ask you what I can do to make it better?"

Ramsay gave a smirk and set his rag down on the table. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall with you.

You pushed him down on to the bed, climbing on top and straddling him. You placed your hands around his neck and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Tell me what's wrong?" You whispered against his lips.

"Going to see my father. I haven't physically seen him since that shit with Dom went down. He blames me for it." Ramsay whispered back, nipping your bottom lip.

"Poor baby boy. Afraid daddy is mad?" You asked mockingly, with a wicked grin.

Ramsay shifted under you but you tightened your grip on his throat. He looked up at you with wide eyes, letting his own wicked grin form. His was much more intimidating than yours, however.

He could hold a gun in one hand, a knife in the other, but his smile would always be his most dangerous weapon.

"You're lucky my child is growing inside you, or I'd have to hurt you, baby girl."

You loosened your grip, slightly taken aback.

"But... I... I mean..." You said, not even sure what you were wanting to say.

Ramsay pried your hands from his neck and sat up, placing his lips gently against yours. You opened your mouth under his, sliding your tongue over his. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey.

You pulled away from him, resting your forehead against his.

"I work four to eleven tomorrow. But I may stay a bit later, got a couple new girls working. Don't want to leave them alone, everyone is taking off for the holidays. So we are a bit understaffed. You and the boys should come out."

"I'll see what I can do. Have a meeting tomorrow night at seven. If it goes smoothly I'll be there. Who's bouncing?"

"Damon and Ben."

Ramsay nodded and slid you off his lap, "get some sleep baby doll. I need to finish cleaning."

Ramsay tucked you in and left with an 'I love you.'

It was noon when you woke. You reached for your phone. Two unread messages.

 _[mom: hey baby. Your father and I will be in tomorrow afternoon for some Christmas shopping. Lunch?]_

 _[You: oh yay! We are definitely having lunch. I have exciting news for you and dad. I'll find out Rams' plans and we can make plans for lunch.]_

 _[Olyvar: hey, we are playing host to some company Christmas party tonight. It's you, me, that new Roslin chick, and that dark skinned girl. Will we need anymore hands on deck? It's the Friday before Christmas after all.]_

 _[You: no. I think we will manage. More money for us.]_

You slid out of bed and proceeded with your morning routine.

After slipping your shoes on you walked into the living room. Ramsay sat there examining guns and cleaning his favorites. You sat on the edge of the couch.

"Morning." Your husband said through a cigarette, never looking at you.

"Afternoon. We are having lunch with my parents tomorrow."

"What time?"

"What time is good for you?"

"Whenever, baby doll."

"Well, I have to be at work at six, so how about one or two?"

"Sounds good."

You watched him examine a gun.

"What are you doing?"

He glanced over at you, pulling his cigarette from between his lips and flicking the ashes in the ash tray.

"I told you, I have a meeting tonight."

You frowned, "should have known meeting didn't really mean _meeting_."


	4. Friday night brawls

You adjusted your green and red elf skirt, placed your little hat on, and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You frowned thinking of all the clothes and outfits you would probably never be able to wear again when summer rolled around.

You loved dressing up for holidays. Ramsay wasn't a fan, but money was money. This costume was a bit more modest as you wore tights under the skirt because it was cold as shit. Thankfully the snow had been put on hold.

You walked into the living room. Ramsay was sprawled out on the couch watching TV and biting at his nails.

"Alright, baby. I gotta go." You said stopping at the end of the couch.

"Take the Nova." Ramsay said, sitting up as you walked in. He held out the keys.

You narrowed your eyes, "why?"

"Because I said. Be a good girl. Don't argue."

You took the keys and leaned down to kiss your husband. He pulled you down into his lap and kissed you hungrily. You melted into him as he kissed across your jaw and worried what was surely a large and very prominent hickey on your neck. He often liked to mark you before you went to work. You were his and he wasn't about to let anyone forget that.

He finally let go of you. You smiled, giving him one last quick kiss. He slapped your ass when you turned around to leave.

"I'll see you later?" You asked, opening the front door and glancing back at your husband.

He simply nodded.

You walked through the backdoor, hanging up your keys and then hanging up your purse in a locker, exchanging it for your waist apron.

"Oly! I'm here!" You called, glancing around. The bar didn't open officially for another thirty minutes tonight, so it was just you and Olyvar until the new girls showed up.

"Up front! Finishing the decorations!" Olyvar's voice called.

You walked into the cavernous, empty bar. Olyvar too was dressed as an elf, in his green tunic and red tights. He was standing on the counter hanging the last of the Christmas lights.

"Be a dear and plug them in?" Your coworker asked.

You followed the trail of lights to the outlet and plugged them in.

Olyvar jumped down from the counter, jinggeling as he did so from his bells on his slippers and hat, admiring his handiwork.

"Not too shabby." You said, looking around the festive place. "So, what company?"

"Lion Gate." Olyvar said, walking behind the counter, grabbing two glasses and pouring out two shots.

You felt a panic surge through you. Lion Gate was owned by Tywin Lannister, head of the Rampant Lions. The Rampant Lions and the Red Kings had been at war in the city and surrounding areas for a long time. While Ramsay was heir to the Red Kings, he had formed his own little gang, the Bastard's Boys that he kept busy with the most. If the Lannister's showed up, it was sure to be trouble. What were they playing at? They didn't hold any ground or footing on this side of town.

"What were you thinking? They can't come here. If Ramsay finds out..." You began as Olyvar downed his shot.

"We are one of the best places in the city of a Friday night. And, money is money."

Olyvar pushed the second glass to you, but you shook your head. "I can't."

Olyvar scrunched his brow before realization spread over his face and he practically squealed like a teenage girl.

"Oh. My. God! How exciting! When did you find out? What was Ramsay like? Tell me _everything_!" He said, smiling broadly.

Olyvar was one of your oldest friends. He had started working at the bar when you did, both putting yourselves through school. But when the bar owner died he had split the place between you both. Olyvar did work from time to time for Ramsay, selling things on the side. He was like a brother to you, and it didn't hurt that he was into men. You assumed this to be the only reason Ramsay never said anything about you talking to him, or being friendly with him.

You took a seat and smiled, "well, I found out yesterday afternoon after Ramsay left. I've been feeling like shit for like two months now. Cramps. Headaches. Constant upset stomach. And then remembered I hadn't had my period in months. So on the way here I picked up a test and it said yes. I was actually kind if afraid of how Rams would react. We had never talked about it before. So, anyway, I told him last night and he demanded we go get some tests. You know him. Well, I took four. They all said yes. I guess he's excited. But, hard to tell. He doesnt really express excitement. Then he made me an appointment this morning and the doctor said I was about eight or nine weeks. Heard the heartbeat and I wanted to cry. It was so amazing. I have an appointment on the third to get an ultrasound done." You gushed, glad to have someone to tell.

"Little baby Bolton. This city is _not_ ready for that." Olyvar said with a laugh.

You laughed. He was not wrong. There was a knock on the front door. You glanced at the clock. 4:45. You got up from your stool and walked to the front door, letting Damon and Ben in. You gave them both smiles, which they didn't really return.

Ramsay probably religiously threatened them to not look at you. He was a very scary person when angry, or bored. Whichever.

"We're streaming the fight tonight. Sure we'll be fine with only four of us and the two in the kitchen?" Olyvar asked turning on the various TV screens.

"Yeah. I think. Sorry, I forgot all about the fight. But we've had bigger events with fewer. Maybe could have done with a couple extra hands in the kitchen though. See if you can get anyone else to come in to kitchen duty?" You said, as two girls walked in.

Roslin was a quiet college student, who was looking to make a bit of extra money. She wasn't overly pretty with her dull eyes and mousy brown hair, but she wasn't ugly either. But you weren't sure bartending would be something she was cut out for. She was timid and you were afraid of men taking advantage of her innocence as far as the bar scene went. But you had hired her anyways. Remembering how you were when you had first come here. And now look at you. Wife to the heir of a multimillion dollar organized crime family.

You had no worries with the other girl, Tyene. She was loud, wild, and more than capable of handling herself. She had been working here for a couple weeks now, and the men loved her. Her dark skin, hair, and eyes made her stand out. Made the men pay extra attention, and money. She was born to hustle and get what she wanted. If she proved her worth, loyalty, and cunning you may talk Ramsay into getting her in with the girls.

"Hey hey!" Tyene cried, putting her reindeer antler headband on.

"Glad to see we all dressed up." You said, grinning broadly, looking the two girls over as Tyene snapped on a big, red blinking nose.

Roslin flushed and gave a timid twirl in her Mrs. Claus dress.

"Alright, so it's us four tonight on the floor. Kitchen will be a bit understaffed, as it's only Mac and Dag, tonight unless we can get a couple more in. So only finger foods and appetizers tonight. Big party coming in, plus the fight. I'm assuming you advertised we were playing it?" You said, glancing at Olyvar, who gave a nod. You left him in charge of the Facebook page and other advertising outlets.

"Great. So, we will be crowded and busy. Anything you make you keep, other than prices of the drinks and food. Remember ladies, they can look, but they cannot touch you. We may not be a strip club, but we follow those same rules. Anyone gives you any problems just raise your fist in the air and Ben or Damon here will come to your aid." You motioned to the two burly men. "Don't let no man give you any shit. Feel free to drink, just remember to pay for it, and stay with it enough to do your jobs. By the time the night is over, you ladies will be _very_ happy." You continued, clapping your hands and glancing at the clock. The two cooks walked into the bar and giving you thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen to let you know they were there.

As assumed, the bar filled quickly and the volume steadily increased with the flow of liquor, smoke, and smells of greasy buffalo wings, fries, and mountains of nachos.

When the Lion Gate group arrived you didn't recognize anyone that could possibly cause trouble. They seemed to just be regular employees, not gang members. But, you could be wrong. You weren't as good as Ramsay when it came to picking rival gang members out of a crowd. They were a very loud and rowdy group. Both your girls were pocketing bills like crazy, and Olyvar spent his time behind the counter mixing drinks and flirting with a couple guys.

The smoke, smells, and sounds were starting to get to you. Your stomach turned over and you suddenly felt nauseous. A headache was starting to form. You caught Olyvar's attention and mimmed taking a 'time out'. He gave you a thumbs up as you disappeared to the safety of the back room.

You sighed, taking a deep breath. You pulled your phone from your apron pocket. It was almost ten. Only another hour.

You sat at a small table, resting your head on it for awhile, trying to compose yourself and fighting the urge to throw up when the police scanner in the corner sounded.

" _All available units to seventy fifth and Trident. Multiple gunshot wounds. Back up requested immediately."_

 _'No mans land._ ' you thought to yourself with a frown. What was Ramsay up to? Nobody every held that stretch very long.

After awhile you got ahold of yourseld, stood up, and pulled a water bottle from the employee fridge, and chugged half of it before getting back to work.

"(Y/n)!" Olyvar called. You glanced over at him, who nodded to the corner to Roslin.

She was being harassed by a couple of men. Tyene was across the room cutting up with a group, and Damon and Ben were busy keeping a fight from breaking out. You frowned, clenching your jaw and stomping over to the corner.

Roslin's eyes were wide in pleading when you appeared at her side. One of the men grabbed her ass.

"Excuse me, sir. But you are not allowed to touch my girls. Release her and keep your hands to yourself or you will be asked to leave." You said, pulling Roslin away, and shielding her.

The man laughed, grabbing your hip. "Oh come on baby, it's just a bit of fun. Get into the holiday spirit. I could make it worth your while." He slammed a stack of bills on the table with a drunken laugh.

You stepped back, but his grip tightened. You narrowed your eyes at the man, "get out of my bar."

He laughed, releasing his grip and slapping your ass. You brought your hand up to slap him, but he caught your wrist.

"Or what, doll? You'll call the police?"

A hand landed on the man's shoulder and you looked to see Ramsay flanked by five men. He gripped the man's shoulder until the man squirmed in pain, fury painted all over his face.

"Unfortunately for you, we don't call the police around here." Ramsay growled as two of the men pulled the man from his seat and drug him towards the back exit.

Ramsay looked you up and down, "how many times did he touch you, baby girl?"

"Three." You said, watching the fire burn in his eyes. He gave a nod, gave you a fleeting kiss, and stalked towards the exit.

"(Y/n), I'm so sorry." Roslin squeaked.

You gave a glance at the other man. He was oddly calm, for his buddy being dragged away as he simply sat there, scrolling through his phone, pocketing the stack of cash. This made your pulse quicken. You hurried to the bar counter and then ran towards the exit.

You stepped into the alley to find Ramsay bouncing the man's head off the brick wall next door.

You averted your eyes and pursed your lips, trying to ignore the sick, crunching sound. "Rams, we have a problem. He's a Rampant. As was his buddy."

Ramsay stopped in his action, dropping the man, who fell in a heap. Ramsay grabbed the man's arm and ripped his sleeve back. On the man's forearm was a tattoo of a rampant lion in red.

Ramsay pulled a knife from his pocket. One of Ramsay's men stuffed a rag into the Lion man's mouth as Ramsay hacked at the tattoo until the skin came away. You watched in horror as Ramsay clutched the piece of skin.

"Make it clean, boys." Ramsay said, looking at the group of men. They all left quickly, pulling guns.

"Don't you make a mess in my bar!" You hissed at your husband. "The cops are already being nosy!"

Ramsay gave you a long look. "Not a drop." He said, walking past you and holding the door open.

You glanced at the severely injured man laying on the pavement. "What about him? You can't just leave him."

"Baby girl, don't worry yourself about anything. It will all be taken care of. They started it, coming to _my_ kingdom. Now, get back in there and get back to work. The lions won't be back." Your husband said, rather impatiently.

You just gave a nod and went back inside. You hurried back to the counter, pulling Olyvar to you so you could whisper in his ear. "Volume up, lights down. _Now_." You hissed.

Olyvar did as you instructed. Nobody seemed to notice. They were all too absorbed in the fight and drowning in beer. You glanced around and gasped as a hand grabbed you. Instinct brought your hand up, but Ramsay's chuckle stopped you. You relaxed.

"Come on." He said, pulling you along.

You furrowed your brows, but followed him to the table the other man still sat at. Ramsay took the empty seat across from him, pulling you into his lap, as his group of men formed a tight circle around the table. He leaned forward, his wicked smirk in place.

"I believe you owe my wife an apology." He said casually to the man.

The man scoffed, "I didn't touch her, speak to her, or even _look_ at her."

Ramsay tutted and rolled his eyes, "I said that you owe my wife an apology. I will not tell you again."

"Listen punk, I don't know who you think..." the man started, puffing up, but his words were lost as Ramsay slammed the crudely flayed tattooed skin on the table.

"Our blades are sharp." Ramsay breathed with so much malice the temperature seemed to drop.

Your stomach churned at the piece of flesh on the table. You frowned, closing your eyes, and saying a small prayer.

What happened next was a blur. You saw Ramsay pull his knife, but everything that followed wouldn't come into focus as you were on your knees, vomiting in the toilet of the bar bathroom.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?" Came Tyene's voice.

You leaned back, heaving a shaky sigh. "Yeah, dear. I'm just... I'm pregnant. Apparently the little one didn't like what I ate last."

Which was true. Nachos had been a very bad idea. However, you weren't sure if seeing a man murdered in front of you or the morning sickness had made you wretch.

"Okay, well, your husband, I think, is waiting on you. Says you should go home and rest. I was confused at first. But now it all makes sense. Congratulations! You know, even if it's not the ideal position to be told." She said with a small laugh at the end.

Well, now you were confused. Didn't complete chaos just unleash in the bar?

You pushed yourself up, sighed, flushed the toilet, and stepped out of the stall. Tyene peered at you curiously as you washed your hands, vigorously.

"What's it like out there?" You asked, drying your hands.

"Normal? A few men were escorted out, but other than that, everyone seems to be having a hell of a time."

You sighed again. This time relieved.

Tyene held the door open for you and you stepped back on to the floor. Sure enough, it was like nothing had ever happened. Ramsay pushed his empty shot glass back to Olyvar and rose from his stool when he saw you.

He looked you over, and held out his hand.

"You sure you'll be alright without me?" You asked Olyvar.

He nodded and gave you a smile, "of course. You just worry about you. We've got this."

You nodded and let Ramsay lead you to the back room. He said nothing as he untied your apron, grabbed your purse, and the keys hanging up.

"Come on baby girl. Let's get home."

You turned to Ramsay, who was as calm as could be, lighting a cigarette.

"What the fuck just happened?" You cried, throwing your hands up.

"Business. Seat belt, baby doll." He replied simply, exhaling smoke.

"Business? I just watched you kill a man in the middle of a crowded bar and no one freaked the fuck out. Explain." You said, demanding the last part.

Ramsay gave a harsh laugh, "If no one hears, no one sees."

"What the fuck were you thinking? The cops..."

"Will know nothing." He cut across you.

"How many men did you kill?"

"Just the cunt in the alley and at the table."

"What about the others?"

"We saw them out and sent them running along with messages to deliver."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, baby girl. Everything will be okay. You just worry about my child inside you."

You frowned. This city was about to become very unsafe. For everyone. Including the unborn child inside of you.

Fear and dread welled inside you as you burst into tears.

Ramsay raised his brows in surprise and gave you a quick look.

"This is not right! Everything is such a mess!" You sobbed, snatching your hat off and clutching it in your hand to cry into.

"Whoa there, little momma. Calm down. Everything is fine. It will be fine. I have eyes everywhere." Ramsay said, softly.

It wasn't a very reassuring voice. That wasn't him. He wasn't one to comfort.

You simply gave a sniff and nodded.

Neither of you said anything for the remainder of the trip home.

Ramsay opened your door and helped you out. He placed a kiss to your temple as he led you inside and straight to the bedroom.

You simply stood there as he undressed you, kissing each bit of skin he exposed.

"What do you want?" He asked, kissing along your collar bone.

"Something to make me forget the things I saw tonight."

"Oh come on now baby girl. It wasn't _that_ bad." Ramsay chortled, grabbing your hips.

You rested your cheek on his chest and sighed, "Rams, I watched you smash a man's head into a brick wall and then cut his skin off. I watched you stab a man point blank across a table while I sat in your lap. You could have hurt somebody innocent. What part of that wasn't so bad?"

Ramsay placed his finger under your chin and brought your face up to look at him.

"First things first, baby girl. Nobody at a bar is innocent. Second, both of those men disrespected _you_. Therefore disrespecting _me._ I will not have that. At all."

You looked away from him. Maybe he was right. Or at least had a point. You looked back up at him and opened your mouth to say something when your breath caught. The cramps were bad enough. But the increasing nausea was getting really fucking annoying.

Ramsay raked his eyes over your face and frowned, pulling you to the bed. He undressed and slid into the bed next to you, pulling you close and running his hand through your hair until you finally fell into a deep sleep.


	5. bad moon rising

The urge to vomit is what woke you up. Well that, and the sounds of scraping and cursing.

You opened your eyes. It was still partially dark. Through bleary eyes you saw the clock illuminating that it was just past six thirty.

You groaned, rolling over. The bed was empty next to you. You sat up. As you did, hot stomach acid crept up your throat.

You quickly got out of bed, running for the bathroom.

After fifteen minutes of leaning against the sink, waiting on nothing as it turned out, you took a deep breath, pulled on one of your favorite silk robes, and left your room.

Ramsay was hastily packing bags full of guns and other weapons.

You scrunched your brows, "What are you doing?" You asked through a dry mouth, rubbing your eyes.

Ramsay spun around to look at you, "What are _you_ doing?"

"I asked you first." You replied in a crabby tone.

He gestured towards the television screen. It was paused on a new headline and picture.

 _Friday Night Mayhem Downtown_. The headline read. The picture was a blurred still of a surveillance video showing four men in masks holding large black bags. The man closest to the front caught your eye. He had his sleeves rolled up and many tattoos. Very similar to your husband's. But the Flayed Man on an X was on the wrong arm.

You knitted your brows, turning back to Ramsay.

"I don't understand. Who's this?"

Ramsay hit play and the news reporter came on the screen.

' _Last night around one in the morning a group of men were reported to be robbing a bank after silent alarms went off. As you can see from the still the men were wearing masks, but authorities are hopeful that the tattoos on the one suspect's arms can be enough to help identify the group. Tune in at noon for further information as we go through the morning.'_

"Rams, that isn't you. What's going on?" You said, tearing your eyes from the screen.

"You're right. It wasn't me. But that bank is _my_ bank. Those tattoos were placed and caught on camera on purpose." He hissed, in anger, holding his arms up in comparison.

There came a knock on the backdoor. It made you jump and sent Kira and Willow into a barking fit. Ramsay snapped his fingers at the dogs and walked to the back door. He glanced out the blind and removed all the locks. He pulled the door open and Damon stepped inside.

"Yo, what in the actual fuck?" Damon said, grasping Ramsay's hand.

"Are the boys set up?" Was Ramsay's reply.

"Yessir."

"Alright. Once we get all this shit loaded, give the word."

You watched as Ramsay and Damon took all the bulking bags out of the house, biting on your knuckle in anxiety.

Ramsay returned a few minutes later and closed the back door with a sharp snap and irritated sigh.

"Come here." He said, motioning you towards him.

You dropped your hand and slowly walked over to him and he pulled you into a tight hug, running his hands down your back.

"How do you feel?" He whispered, kissing the crown of your head.

"Horrible, honestly." You replied quietly wrapping your arms around him.

"Would my face between your legs make you feel better?" He breathed, scooping you up.

You let a small grin form and closed your eyes, "mhmm. Please."

"Good. You didn't really have a choice in the matter anyways." He replied, carrying you to the bed and dropping you gently on the mattress.

He slid the robe from your bare shoulders and ghosted his lips over your skin. You closed your eyes with a small moan, pushing your head back into the bed.

He nipped at the soft skin of your inner thigh, making you giggle and pick your head up to look down at him.

"Hm?" He hummed, bringing his eyes up to yours.

"You didn't shave. It tickles." You said, suppressing another giggle.

He smirked, rubbing the stubble of his jaw against your leg, "should I?"

You dropped your head back into the bed, "mmm, no. I like it."

"Whatever my queen likes." He murmured, kissing along your folds.

The air caught in your throat at the sensation, causing you to arch your back. You bit your lip, letting a small noise escape you, as you tangled your hands into the blanket under you.

You relaxed your body as he slid his tongue slowly into you. He made firm, sensual movements with his tongue against you and when he bit down on your sensitive spot it made you gasp and give a small jerk. The pain stopped just as suddenly as he darted his tongue over the spot.

"Come here." You whispered, grabbing at his shoulder.

He gave a small growl, shrugging your hand off. The hum of his lips making you shiver, as he picked up the pace with his tongue.

Your stomach twisted up and fluttered as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His stubble adding to the sensation, as he gripped your thighs tightly under his rough hands. Your breathing came in gasping bursts as you moaned and muttered incoherent words.

You felt a slight disappointment form when he pulled away from you. His eyes shinning brightly, his lips wet, his chest rising and falling, as he slid a finger in you.

You gave a shuddering gasp, more nonsense words falling from your lips as you shifted and bucked your hips into his hand. You felt his pericing gaze on you as you fought to keep your eyes open.

He slid another finger inside you, and curled them when he had pushed them as far as they would go. You ground into his hand, unable to keep any noises from escaping you now.

"Baby. Fuck me." You managed to get out as your breath caught and your chest tightened.

He pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean as he placed his other hand on your hip and pulled, indicating you to roll over.

You rolled over as he hastily kicked out of his shorts and clambered onto the bed. He ran his finger tips over the small of your back with one hand, gripping your hip with the other as he positioned himself behind you.

He teased at your entrance with his dick, making the desire build in you as you pushed yourself back into him.

He let out a small noise as you felt him enter you, gripping your hips harder than he probably meant to at the feeling. You let out a small sigh, grinding against his hips and savoring the sensation.

He dug his fingers into your hips as he buried himself into you, without relent.

You couldn't fight the tingling sensation as the pressure built in you with each thrust and small noise your husband made.

Ramsay leaned into you, trailing his hand under you to sweep over your extra sensitive skin with his thumb, rubbing light circles.

You drew in a sharp breath, pushing back into him as hard as you could as your high hit you like a blow to the chest. You buried your face into the blankets and cried out in pleasure, feeling Ramsay grip your hips with both hands in a death grip, drawing ragged shallow breaths, before falling into you as he spent himself inside you with a deep, throaty primal growl.

You both let out deep sighs at the same time, making you give a small laugh.

He gave you a small slap on the ass before pulling away from you, and falling onto the bed.

You relaxed your body and layed on your stomach, realizing this would be impossible soon. You peered at your husband, who also laid on his front.

You scrunched up your nose, "You're making my blanket gross."

"Shhh. I'll buy you a new one." He murmured, giving you a smirk, before pushing himself up. "Where are we having lunch?"

You ran your eyes over his naked body, chewing your lip, taking him in. His tattoos, scars, muscles. You then brought your eyes up to his face and gave a shrug, pushing yourself up, watching him as he cleaned himself and wiped his mouth on a discarded shirt.

"Don't know. No where overly fancy, I really just don't feel up to it." You said, thinking.

"Well, think on it and get back with me when I get back." He replied tossing you a different shirt, pulling shorts and a clean t-shirt on.

"Where are you going?" You asked, taken aback.

"Taking the girls on a run. Like I do, _every_ morning. I'm just late, this morning." He replied, slipping his shoes on and glancing at the clock. He stood up, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter from the top of the dresser before leaving you alone.

You simply nodded. He was always awake before you it seemed, so you weren't really sure what he did for the two plus hours he was usually up before you.

You walked to the bathroom, turning the shower on and waiting on it to warm up, taking the opportunity to text your mother.

Ramsay opened your door and helped you out, pulling his sunglasses off and tossing them into your seat.

You looked around. You had settled on this new little bar and grill. It was in a beautiful location on the river front. You didn't come to this side of the city much. It was a part of your turf, but you had no need to come out this far. However, this little eatery was receiving many positive reviews and you were glad for an excuse to come. Not that you really needed one, but still.

Ramsay held the door open for you and you immediately saw your parents. Excitement coursed through you as you rushed them and embraced them both.

Ramsay offered a polite nod, shaking your father's hand and enduring your mother's hug. He caught the eye of a waiter who hurried to your party and sat you immediately.

Ramsay rested his hand on your knee and did his best to seem interested in what your parents talked about, while keeping his eyes open for anything out of place, on edge at having his back to the entrance.

Naturally, your parents had no idea the kind of life you secretly led, and had no idea that Ramsay was a gang member.

"So, what do you have to tell us?" Your mother asked, placing her napkin in her lap, adjusting her bangles.

"I'm pregnant!" You practically shouted, the tears welling.

"Oh my god!" Your mother gasped, excitement gripping her like Christmas had come early.

Without words your father expressed the same excitement. They had been both been dying for a grandchild, and badgered you about it constantly.

"How far?" Your mother asked, reaching for your hand across the table.

"The doctor said eight or nine weeks. We are having an ultrasound done on the third." You breathed, cheeks flushing.

"Are you excited for fatherhood, Ramsay?" Your father asked, looking over at him as he downed his scotch.

He set the glass down and offered a sickly, sweet smile that you weren't sure was genuine or not. "Yes sir. Very much so."

Outside of the news report this morning your day was shaping up to be wonderful. It was so nice to see your parents. You didn't get to see them much. They travelled a lot now that all the children were out of the house. Your father told you all about his new building projects, to which you coaxed Ramsay into bragging about his Nova. Your mother regaled you in hometown gossip and how your siblings were doing.

You were in the middle of laughing at one of your father's jokes when everything changed.

Someone slammed the same picture from the news onto the table between you and Ramsay.

" _Ramsay Bolton_." Came a vaguely familiar voice.

Ramsay gave you a quick side long glance before rising slowly from his seat. You took in the looks of horror on your parents faces before turning to see Detective Greyjoy and three officers.

"Can I help you?" Ramsay asked in false politeness.

"You're under arrest." Greyjoy spoke, as an officer pulled Ramsay's arms behind his back, slamming him roughly against the table.

You heard your mother gasp and the click of the handcuffs as you quickly rose from your chair, glancing at the officer telling Ramsay his rights.

"On what charges?" You demanded, stepping into the detective.

"Bank robbery." Greyjoy said, nodding at the picture.

You gave a shrill laugh, picking up the picture and tearing it in half.

"This? _This_ is your probable cause to arrest my husband? Maybe You could take him in for questioning, but to _arrest_ him?You are much mistaken, sir. These tattoos are not even my husbands." You hissed dropping the two halves of the picture.

Greyjoy looked taken aback. Ramsay remained unconcerned and gave a shrug.

"She's right you know. I'd show you. _But_..." He said, shaking the chains on the cuffs loudly. "But feel free to take me in. You just better be sure you are one hundred percent. Don't threaten me with a good time and not deliver."

Greyjoy looked furious, running his eyes from you to your husband. He faltered. He wasn't sure what to do. He had fucked up. If he released Ramsay, Ramsay was likely to retaliate. But if Ramsay really _wasn't_ involved... But he had no choice but to follow through now. The damage was done.

"What's the matter? Go behind your partner's back on this one? Like I said, take me down to the station. I'm sure they all miss my wonderful jokes. But I can prove it wasn't me, right here. Right now." Ramsay goaded.

"I'll take it from here." Greyjoy growled to the other cops, as he stooped down, snatching up the torn picture, examining it closely, glancing at Ramsay frowning deeply.

He gave the other officers a nod and they left. He then stepped into Ramsay, and you inched closer to your husband.

"I know who you are." Greyjoy whispered.

"You threw the first punch." Ramsay whispered back, leaning into the detective, so only you and he could hear.

A look of unease flashed across the man's face before he did his best to conceal himself.

You looked at your husband, "keys."

He pushed his hip out to you and you fished out the keys from his pocket.

"Come here, baby girl." He said gently.

You leaned into him and pressed your lips to his.

He pulled away from you slightly to kiss your temple and whisper in your ear, "I'll be home in a couple hours. Call Damon to pick me up." He pulled away from you with a wink, " _oh momma I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law._ "

Greyjoy grabbed Ramsay's arm and lead him towards the exit. You clenched your jaw, watching them leave.

" _The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me_!" Ramsay sang with an upbeat step and his usual smirk, eyeing Greyjoy.

"Shut up." The detective hissed, throwing the door open.

"Hang man is coming down from the gallows. Didn't ya know?" Ramsay laughed bitterly, as the cop shoved him through the doorway.

Now war was about to break out with the police department. What a stupid fucking man.

You turned back to your parents, who both sat there stunned.

"(Y/n), what's going on?" Your father asked, as you gripped the keys in your hands, seething in anger.

You heaved a sigh and sipped your tea. "Did you watch the news this morning?" You asked.

"No, we weren't up yet." Your mother said, watching you closely.

"Well, last night some guys tried to rob the bank Ramsay works at. He was framed. A man deliberately wore fake tattoos to mimic Ramsay's. But they did a poor job. I hate to cut lunch short, but now I have a police department to sue." You said, grabbing your purse, coat, and smoothing your dress out.

"Baby? Are you okay?" You father asked, raising from his seat.

"Hormones." You said, dropping cash on the table and leaving.

" _(Y/n_ )!" Your mother called, running after you.

The wind was bitter and the clouds dark as you stepped outside. But a fire was burning in your chest, keeping the cold at bay.

Your mother grabbed your hand. You fell into her, heaving a dry sob. You weren't even sure how long you stood there like this. It was so nice to have your mother's arms around you again.

"Hush baby. It's okay. If Ramsay is innocent everything will be okay. You don't need to stress your body." You mother cooed, rubbing your back.

How you wanted to tell her the truth. To get it all off your chest. But you said nothing.

"Would you like us to come with you?" Your father asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath and shook your head. "No. It's okay, I've got this. I work tonight. Come by after your shopping and we can have a better time."

Your parents simply nodded, exchanging looks as you slammed the door to the Nova and rammed the key into the ignition.

At the stoplight you pulled out your phone and dialed Damon.

" _yes ma'am_?"

"The cops just picked up Ramsay. I thought we had eyes on that detective? You better get your shit together or I will make this city cower in fear. Be prepared. The grease is in the fire now." You said, then hung up.

Your mind was racing and before you knew it you were at the police station. You slammed the door and hurried up the steps, throwing the building doors open.

"Where is he?!" You shouted, probably sounding like a crazy woman. But fuck them.

"Ma'am, can i help you?" A woman said at the front desk.

"Where is my husband? Where is that Greyjoy man? Somebody _better_ take me to see someone who fucking matters!" You yelled, looking around at all the concerned looking people.

"Ma'am, calm down please and we can take you to see Chief Stark." A young officer said, timidly.

You followed him through the building to an office. You heard raised voices behind it.

"Come on Ned! Don't be thick. It was him. He's been behind all this shit. His father is Roose Bolton for crying out loud! Look at this fuck's wrap sheet! It's gotta be a mile long. Aggravated assault. Aggravated assault. Assault on a police officer. Possession of a controlled substance. And it keeps going. Just the same!"

"I understand that Greyjoy. But all of those charges are years old. He hasn't been charged with anything in almost three years. There is no evidence, you can't hold him. Damnit boy, the tattoos don't even match. He's got enemies, it's obviously a set up. Would he really rob his own bank?"

"Yes! Yes he would! He's a mad man."

You had enough and shoved past the officer and threw open the doors. There stood Greyjoy waving a stack of papers, his red headed partner pinching the bridge of his nose, and the Chief of Police, hands on his desk as if he was rising from his chair.

They all turned to look at you.

"I want my husband released. _Now_. Or I will sue you for all this shit hole is worth." You hissed.

"Mrs. Bolton?" The man at the desk asked.

You nodded, eyes narrowed, and throwing daggers at Greyjoy.

"Son, take her to see him." The man said to the auburn haired detective.

"Are we..."

"Robb, just do what I said."

Robb gave a curt nod, "follow me, please."

"She's in on it too." You heard Greyjoy mutter.

"Enough."

"Should of known you wouldn't go home." Ramsay said, glancing up at you, sliding his feet from the table, letting his chair fall back on all fours.

You scowled, "and what was I supposed to do?"

"Finish lunch." He glanced around, "What time is it?" He glanced down at his bare wrist.

You gave him a blank look. "I don't care what time it is and I'm not going anywhere until I have that cunt out of here."

Ramsay raised his brows at you and smirked. "I like pregnant you." He glanced at the two way mirror, "hey, what's a guy gotta do to get a smoke around here?"

You crossed your arms. You couldn't understand how he wasn't seething with anger. He was calm and wore that damn grin.

You paced back and forth, fuming, until the door opened again.

Ned Stark walked in. Ramsay stood and held out his hand. Ned took it firmly.

"Mr. Bolton. You must forgive my detective. Jumped the gun. Do you mind if I ask you a few quick questions?" Chief Ned said, looking between you and your husband.

"Already here, let's get to it." Ramsay said, indicating you to sit.

"Not until you fire that fucking detective." You said like ice.

"We are placing him on administrative leave." The chief said with a sigh.

You glanced at Ramsay who rocked on his heels, arms behind his back. Waiting.

"Let's not beat around the bush, Bolton. Who did it?" Ned said, holding his elbow in one hand and rubbing his beard with his other hand.

Ramsay shrugged, "I'm sure there are a number of folks. If I had a venn diagram of my friends and enemies, it would just be a circle."

"You've been keeping your nose clean." Ned stated.

"Nasty filth. Dirty world." Ramsay said sagely.

"Excuse me, but what's the point of this?" You cut in, feeling impatient.

Ramsay gave you a cold look, but you ignored him.

"The point, Mrs. Bolton, is that we are at war in the streets. My men being targeted. Your husband being framed. Maybe we can work together." Ned said, glancing at Ramsay.

You saw something uncertain pass over your husband's face. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this.

"Don't know what your talkin bout, Chief." Ramsay said, giving a quick glance at the two-way mirror again.

"Ramsay, no games. The amount of times I've closed the bars on you, you could almost be family." Ned said dryly.

"I was a kid. Didn't know what I was doing. I've grown up. Stable, white collar job. Fine ass wife. Father to be. I don't play the game anymore." Ramsay shrugged.

Ned gave a frustrated sigh, and opened the door. Ramsay let you pass him, but Ned held him back.

"I can help you get Dom's killer."

You turned to watch the gears turn in Ramsay's head.

"I don't need your help for that. Our blades are sharp." Ramsay whispered, grabbing your elbow and leading you down the hall to the entrance of the station.

Ramsay stopped at the front desk, "oh sweet little ol Miss Mel."

"Been a long time, Ramsay." The old woman said, pushing a box towards Ramsay.

"Been keeping busy, have you met my wife?" Ramsay said, replacing his wallet and phone in his pockets, then tightening his watch on his wrist. "Baby doll, this woman makes thebestsnickerdoodles. I'm one of her favorite bad guys."

You watched Ramsay go on with the old woman, as if he actually gave a shit. How was it possible to be so charming and down right murderous at the same time? He turned back to you, holding a slip of paper with a recipe on it. His smirk dropped as he looked up.

There stood Greyjoy, looking angry and harassed. Ramsay pointed at the man.

"December twenty ninth two thousand fourteen. Ten thirty. Parking lot. Assault on an officer with a deadly weapon. Knife to be more specific. Ask the Chief who came off worse."

You grabbed Ramsay's hand and pulled. "What are you playing at?" You hissed.

Ramsay said nothing on the drive. But you weren't going home you realized.

You said nothing as the silence became more tense.

"Under the seat." He said, killing the motor outside a garage and holding his palm out to you.

You reached under the seat, cold metal meeting your finger tips. You placed the gun in Ramsay's hand.

"Baby, what are we doing?" You asked, as he climbed out of the car and opened your door.

"Keep your mouth shut." He snapped. You gave him an offended look. His face softened a bit, "Come on."

He practically kicked down the door, cocking the gun as a few men jumped up from their chairs in panic.

"Who the ** _fuck_**?" He raged, turning the gun to each of his men.

"He got away from us. We lost him." A young man spoke up, cowering in fear.

"Lost him?" Ramsay mocked, anger shaking his speech. "That cunt walks in and ruins my lunch. Embarrassing _my wife_ in front of her family and every one in that god damn place." Without warning he pulled the trigger.

The man screamed in pain, clutching his shoulder as he dropped to the floor.

"Shut him up!" Ramsay barked, clutching the grip as if itching to shoot the man again.

"Boss!" Damon called, throwing a side door open and clutching a stitch in his side.

" _What?!_ " Ramsay yelled in annoyance.

Damon stood up and gave you a look before heaving a deep sigh.

"What Damon?" Ramsay asked threateningly.

"The bar. It's on fire."

"Well this day just keeps getting better and fucking better." Ramsay growled.


	6. house of memories

You were speechless as the words hit you. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You were uncomfortably aware of everyone staring at you.

"What time is it?" You finally managed to get out weakly.

"Four ten." Ramsay said glancing at his watch.

Fear gripped you. "When did this happen?"

"I don't know. Came over the scanner about twenty minutes ago. There's no saving it. Multiple units are on it." Damon said.

You turned on your heel, running to the car. You poured your purse out in the seat to find your phone.

17 missed calls.

5 unread messages.

You hastily unlocked your phone and called Olyvar. Maybe you should have called your mother first. Oh well.

 _"(Y/n)!"_ Came Olyvar's panicked voice on the other end.

"Oh thank God! I just heard! Please tell me no one was there!" You cried, tears trickling your eyes.

" _No. Everyone is safe. You were the only one I couldnt get ahold of._ " Olyvar said.

You closed your eyes tight, giving an uneasy sigh.

When you opened your eyes you saw Ramsay's phone light up: _in law_.

"I'll meet you there." You said hanging up and grabbing Ramsay's phone.

"Hello?" You said quickly.

" _Oh thank God baby! We just heard. And we couldn't reach you or Ramsay. Are you okay? Is everything okay?_ " You mother cried on the other end.

"I'm okay momma. No one was there. I'm heading over there now. I will meet you at my house." You said, trying to sound reassuring as Ramsay came to a halt behind you.

You gave him a glance before hanging up and falling into him.

"We have to get over there. Now. Please." You sobbed, clutching his shirt.

He gave you a pat on the back, "Let's go baby doll." He shoved all the purse contents in your seat to the floorboard and helped you in.

You stared out the window as Ramsay ran red lights and furiously shifted gears.

"Everyone okay?" He asked as you saw the thick black smoke curling across town.

"Yes. No one was there." You said with a sniff. "Mom and dad will be at the house when we get there." You added, looking at Ramsay. He gave a nod.

You shoved past the cops and firemen to see what was left of your bar. The tears slipped down your cheeks and the rest of the world was a blur as you looked over the ash and smoldering wood.

This place was your life. It had started as a "fuck it, why not" idea, looking online for a job. The old man who had owned it loved you immediately. Olyvar had been working there a week before you. You both became fast friends, and the Old Man, Jones, cared for you like his own children. He had nothing but that bar, you, and Olyvar. It wasn't until your wedding day that you learned that Jones was leaving you and Oly the bar at Ramsay's request after finding out he had terminal cancer.

This lot was where you learned it all. How to hustle, shake your ass, useless party tricks, and how to love. This was the first place you had met Ramsay. The first place you had fucked him. The first place you had met the gang. The place Ramsay had professed his love for you. The place where Ramsay beat a cop into an unconscious, bloody pulp before asking you to marry him through the back seat of the cop car. The first place you were when you found out you were pregnant just a few short days ago.

Your knees went weak under you as you brought your hand to your mouth and fell into Olyvar as he ran to you and hugged you tight.

The last hour and a half had been long, answering questions, making phone calls, and trying your hardest to keep from crying anymore.

Ramsay was your support as he helped you from the car, you parents waiting anxiously for you.

Everything was still a daze as you took a seat on the couch and fell into your mother's lap, clutching her skirt and crying again. She ran her fingers through your hair.

Ramsay damn near smashed a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, throwing back multiple shots.

He was pissed. For you. For himself. While you worked the bar, all money in and out was checked by the Boys, as well as any money that was brought in by them from deals or stolen. Ramsay had set up a few schemes at work to keep your "extra" income from looking too fishy.

Your father watched the evening news report. They were reporting on the structure fire this afternoon, but the words didn't penetrate you.

Abruptly Ramsay stood up, glaring at the television. He scowled and made a frustrated noise, patting himself down for his keys. He cast around until he found them on the coffee table, swiping for them. But he missed and they fell to the ground.

He muttered to himself, snatching them up with a stumble and heading for the door.

"Where you goin, Son?" Your heard your father ask.

Ramsay swayed on his heel, turning to you and your parents.

"Uh..." he said, clearing his throat, "Ice cream."

"Should you be driving, dear?" Your mother asked, worry lacing her words.

Ramsay sucked his teeth, before pulling out his phone and calling who you assumed to be Damon.

"It would seem I am too drunk to life right now. Let's go get ice cream." He said, patting himself down again for his lighter and hanging up.

You finally pushed yourself up from your mother's lap.

"Rams, can i talk to you?" You asked timidly, rising from the couch.

He narrowed his unfocused eyes at you and gave a half shrug. You hurried to him.

"What are you doing?" You asked in a urgent whisper.

Ramsay gave you a look as if it were the stupidest question he had ever been asked.

He stalked to the coffee table and snatched up the remote, rewinding the news. He paused on a close up of the burned bar and jabbed his finger at the corner of the screen of the part of the bar that wasn't completely burnt.

Your eyes went wide as you spotted a shiny, gold lion cufflink.

From the corner of your eye you saw your parents exchange confused looks.

Ramsay gave you a vindictive look.

"You're too drunk to do anything, baby. _Please_. It can wait." You whispered, turning your whole body to him to shield your parents away.

Your husband looked like he was about to explode, but gave you a small grin, "I told you. I'm going to get ice cream."

"Then let me come with you. I can drive, you know." You said crossing your arms.

Ramsay gave a harsh laugh, "You're playing host to your parents. Where are your manners?"

"Where are _yours_?" You hissed.

You saw Ramsay's eye twitch, but he didn't move. You both stood there challenging one another silently. Your arms crossed, jaw locked.

There came a knock on the door, and the dogs whimpered. Ramsay had taught them to hold their barks if company was over.

Ramsay gave you a fleeting kiss on the cheek before slamming the door on his way out.

You dropped your shoulders and sighed.

"(Y/n)?" Your mother asked.

You turned back to your parents, lies starting to flow to cover this up.

"It's okay mom. He's fine. Just... been a very long day." You said, picking up the empty shot glass and nearly empty whiskey bottle.

"What's significant about this lion?" Your father asked, examining the TV screen.

You sighed, "last night things got crazy at the bar and we had to throw out a bunch if men. It seems they aren't happy."

"My god." Your mother gasped.

You closed the door and leaned against it with a small sigh after you bid your parents good bye.

Seeing them hadnotturned out how you had wanted. Like, could you please get a whole redo on the last 48 hours?

You took the hottest shower you could handle, taking extra time to brush your hair after dressing in your night clothes.

You threw yourself down on the couch and text Olyvar. Pulling your socks on and adjusting your sleep pants.

 _[you: you good?]_

You flipped through TV channels. Nothing worth watching on a Saturday night anymore it seemed.

Your phone vibrated.

 _[Olyvar: good as I can be. You?]_

 _[You: guess I'm alright. Wanna come over? Rams will be home soon, hopefully with legit ice cream.]_

 _[Olyvar: Lol okay. Give me 15]_

Twenty minutes later Olyvar knocked on the door. Sending the damn dogs into a frenzy. You hushed them and let Oly in.

"Did you see the news?" You asked, sitting on the couch.

Olyvar gave a small nod, sitting across from you, "the lions?"

"Fuckers." You spat.

"I heard that." Olyvar said, holding his out to Willow before scratching her behind the ear.

"What are we going to do?" You asked, watching Olyvar scratch the dog.

"Start again I guess. Maybe save some of the unburnt wood to use in the building of a new bar counter. Go bigger. Go better. Blow the Lion's club out of the water. They wouldn't have shit on us."

"Yeah..." You said slowly before turning in fright as the backdoor smashed open.

You and Olyvar both jumped up as the dogs raced to the kitchen.

Ramsay, Damon, and two other guys you didnt know practically fell into the kitchen.

You gasped, taking Ramsay in. He was sporting a black eye, bloodied nose, and covered in blood that was not his. The other three men looking just as rough.

Ramsay brought his gaze to yours before frowning.

"God damnit. Fucking ice cream." He groaned, clutching his shoulder.


	7. Dreadfort manor

You heaved a sigh, running your eyes over the group. Instinctively you crossed the kitchen and pulled the first aid kit from a cabinet.

"Strip 'em and quit bleeding on my floor." You frowned at the men, your voice taut with suppressed anger.

You went from being simply upset to fucking furious.

"No. No time. We gotta go." Ramsay said, standing up right, dropping his hand from his shoulder with a scowl.

"You're _not_ going anywhere looking like _that. What did you do_?" You cried, throwing your arms out at the men.

"Everything but get ice cream, it would seem." Ramsay chuckled with a grimace.

You suppressed the urge to slap him, "You're cleaning all of this up. How many did you kill today?"

"Enough." Was all Ramsay said, tearing his shirt off and mopping his bloodied face with it. "Oh yeah, baby doll, these are two new guys. Matt and uh..." he said, snapping his fingers and closing his eyes, "Brian. Yeah. They did good."

You looked at the two young kids, feeling pity for them, before looking back at your husband.

"I don't care. They are bleeding all over my floor." You snapped, crossing your arms. If being Ramsay's wife had taught you anything, it was how to stand your ground and bare your teeth.

Ramsay held his hands up in surrender, "alright alright, baby girl. But really, there's no time. We have to go. Pack us a bag."

"Rams, what's going on?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

"No time. Do what I said. You've got five minutes."

You gave Olyvar a look, but hurried to your room.

You heard arguing as you hastily shoved clothing and absolute necessities in a bag.

Olyvar and Ramsay entered the room. Ramsay grabbed the bag, thrusting your coat at you, and yanked a clean t-shirt from the chest of drawers.

"Come on." Ramsay demanded, quickly leaving the room.

"(Y/n), stay safe. I will see you in a few days." Olyvar said, giving a brief hug.

"Where are you going?" You questioned, taking in your friends face.

"Running a couple errands and then going home."

Ramsay helped you climb inside the SUV.

"Alight, let's get the fuck out of here." He said slamming the door.

He pushed the dogs aside in the back row to shove the bag back there with them, as the SUV hurtled down the street.

"Ramsay, what the fuck is going on?" You asked, panic twisting up inside you for the millionth time today.

"Ran into a problem. It's taken care of, but we need to lay low for a few days. We're going to the Fort tonight." Your husband replied, his eyes glittering in the yellow street lights.

"What kind of problem? Baby, what happened?" You asked, wiping the blood from the cut under Ramsay's eye.

"Chaos. Us. Lions. Stags. Cops. Roses. We need all hands on deck."

You frowned, sinking back into the seat. Tears forming. You weren't sure why, but about a million emotions surged through you all at once from anger to hurt, and even... excitement?

You felt Ramsay watching you. He pulled you into a tight embrace. You relaxed into him, pressing your cheek to his chest, listening to the furious hammering in his ribcage.

What the hell was going on? Three days ago everything was fine. No cops. No blood. No fire. No stress. And now everything was shit. Just pure, 100% shit. Ever since finding out you were pregnant everything had gone to shit.

"Where are we going now?" You asked with a sniff, noticing you were headed in the opposite direction from where your father in law lived.

"To get cleaned up and contact the Kings, after I see to a pressing matter."

You nodded and turned your gaze out the window.

"Where are we?" You asked as you climbed out of the vehicle after Ramsay.

"A safe house of sorts. But we won't be here long. Just long enough for me to do some yelling and clean up a bit." Ramsay said, leading you through the garage door of a small house.

"Somebody bring me a drink!" He barked, throwing another door open, and stepping aside so you could walk in to the room.

There sat a large group of men, only three of them you knew by name, and the other six you only knew by face. They all looked irritated, harassed, and some had apparently been in bed as they wore simple night clothes.

Ramsay sat in an empty chair and pulled you into his lap. A woman set a bottle of beer on the table. Ramsay scowled at the bottle and swept it off the table.

"Something that doesn't taste like shit." He growled.

You shifted in his lap to take him in, fully now.

He had a black eye, cut brow and cheek, a nasty busted lip, and blood at his ear. He held his right shoulder awkwardly and stiffly, you could feel the heat and how it would twitch beneath his shirt.

What the fuck?

"So?" He whispered threateningly, glancing around the table as the woman set down a glass and made to pour it full if amber liquid, but he snatched the bottle from her hands and took a long swig.

"Well, we've got one hell of a mess." The eldest looking man spoke.

Ramsay raised his brows, running his tongue along his bottom lip slowly, worrying the busted cut with his tongue for a minute before speaking. "That much was obvious."

"The Tyrell's and Lannister's are making peace with one another. That boy is marrying the daughter of Mace. It was his little group that did... well... that." The man said, gesturing to your husband.

"Well, unlucky for him it didn't kill me." Ramsay growled, clutching the bottle until it shook under his grip.

"Did what?" You asked.

"Don't worry about it. It's alright. I'm alright." Ramsay muttered, running his hand along your back.

You frowned. What had happened that he didn't want you to know about? Where had he gone when he had left home?

"Baby girl, can you check on the dogs? I need to have a talk with these men." He added, giving you a look.

"Yeah, of course." You said through a false smile, which he noted as he narrowed his eyes at you.

You stood and left the way you came. You shut the door behind you and closed your eyes, taking a deep, calming breath, leaning against the door.

Ramsay burst into manic shouting, and you heard the shatter of breaking glass and a single gunshot.

You hurried back outside to find Kira and Willow waiting on you on the other side of the door, whimpering and prancing in place.

There was a stone bench by the door, and you took a seat. Shivering in the cold, teeth chattering, and hugging yourself tight as snow began to fall. Your breath rose like thick smoke, and the tears streamed down your face. You pulled your coat tighter around you, watching the snow fall in the silence that only snow brings. Why was he so adamant about leaving home? Ramsay wasn't one to run. What was going to happen now?

"Baby girl. I need your assistance." Ramsay said after a few minutes, walking out the door.

You glanced around at him. He held out his hand, which you took almost reluctantly. He gripped your hand until it hurt you as he led you to a small bathroom, where he turned on the hot water in the sink and sat down a first aid kit he had been holding in his other hand. He took a seat on the edge of the bath tub and heaved a deep sigh.

You frowned, grabbing a rag and running it under the hot water. You wrung out the rag, and gently sat in Ramsay's lap, running the rag softly over his face and rubbing the dried blood away.

He gave small hisses and jerked uncomfortably as you worked on cleaning his brow, cheek, and lip. Underneath all the blood were many tiny cuts and bruises. So much for any decent Christmas pictures for Instagram.

You worked in silence, wondering what to say until you had cleaned all the blood away from his face and ear.

You stood, dropped the rag in the sink, and opened the med kit.

"I have to close the gash on your cheek." You whispered.

"I figured so. Hand me a rag." Ramsay said, holding out his hand.

You placed a rag in his hand and dug for a curved needle and thread. You pulled a lighter from the kit and held the needle over it for many seconds with a pair of pliers from the bottom of the kit. Once the metal had cooled you ran thread through it and returned to Ramsay.

You swallowed thicky and placed a kiss to your husband's forehead as he stuffed the rag between his teeth, jaw clenched, his grip painfully tight on your leg even though the pain hadn't even begun for him. You took a deep breath and slid the hooked needle through his skin, struggling to keep your hand steady.

When you knotted the last stitch you gave a sniff, and held out your hand. Ramsay placed his knife in your palm again. When you cut the string away you stood and ran your eyes over your husband.

He brought his eyes up to yours and gave a wink before standing.

You gave a small smile, but inside you were screaming. How the hell did everything end up like this?!

"What happened?" You asked, washing your hands.

Ramsay took a breath and washing his hands as well, "Damon and I picked up the new kids and were picking up some pay and checking out some information my father had sent word about, and then I was going to get fucking ice cream and come back home and eat that shit out from between your legs. But then someone opened fire on us. Make a long story short there were nine dead bodies on the corner of fifty fourth and Trident, maybe a car or two on fire, and well... yeah."

"Then what happened to your face?"

"Dashboard. Anyways, that's why there were vehicles on fire. Ran for it and camped out until someone could get to us. And now here we are." Ramsay said, glancing himself over in the mirror.

"Rams, this is getting out of control. Way too much violence in the last seventy two hours." You said, tears brimming your lower lashes.

"And more to come. I've only just begun." Ramsay said, pulling you to him.

"You said I wouldn't have to bury you. But if you keep this up I will within the week. Worst fucking holiday week, _ever_." You managed to get out, tears spilling on your cheeks again.

Ramsay cupped your face, brushing the tears away with his thumb, and pressing his lips to yours. His bottom lip was hot and swollen. The skin rough and cracked.

He pulled away from you, "Come on. We need to get on the road. Got a long hour ahead of us."

"You're not driving." You stated.

"No. And nor are you. Alyn is driving us up there. Maybe get some hot back seat fuck in." Your husband purred quietly in your ear as he held the door open for you.

Your cheeks burnt. Ramsay was one to have sex anywhere at any time. You assumed it made him feel primal. Feel alpha. He could care less who saw, heard, or even flat out watched.

Sometimes you thought he did it because it made you uncomfortable. He had no problem fucking you with his hand in a crowded restaurant. No problem holding you down on the floor and fucking you slowly in Damon's kitchen. Public restrooms, whenever the opportunity arose. The top row of a movie theater. Wherever. Whenever. But, maybe deep down you enjoyed it too. It was a rush. It was racy and exhilarating.

Maybe you would let him fuck you in the backseat. He owed you anyways, you thought bitterly. All you had wanted was a chill day with your parents, go to work, and come home and have steamy sex with your husband and sleep in tomorrow. And not a single one of those things happened. You had to pick him up from the police station. Your bar was burnt to the ground. Your parents didn't really get to enjoy their time with you and you kind of felt guilty for blowing them off. And then whatever the fuck had happened after Ramsay left that now found you here.

You followed him back to the room you had first walked in when you arrived; people working on cleaning up red splatter on a wall, and you averted your eyes as you walked past realizing it wasn't all smooth, but had texture to it against flat surface. Ramsay was in a hushed and hurried conversation with the group. They all gave an agreed murmur before all going their separate ways.

"Ready?" He asked when you stopped at his side.

You gave a small nod, glancing down at his now busted watch. Almost two in the morning.

Ramsay wasted no time in pulling you into his lap and sliding his cold hand down your pants.

You rested your head on his shoulder and heaved a deep sigh, closing your eyes.

"Get some sleep baby girl." He whispered to you, gently moving his fingers over your folds. Making slow movements, spreading your wetness slowly.

"No." You whispered, kissing his neck.

"You're tired. I said sleep." He whispered gruffly.

"But it feels so good." You murmured, sinking your teeth in his neck.

"That it does." He murmured back, making a small, throaty noise as you took the skin between your teeth again and sucking gently, shifting in his lap to grind against him. You felt the stirring in his pants and wanted nothing more than to feel his weight on top of you as he continued to gently tease and play with your pussy. You took his earlobe in your mouth, letting out a quiet, breathy moan of longing.

"You better stop it, baby doll." He growled, pushing his hips up.

"You seem uncomfortable, daddy. Maybe your little girl could help relieve some of the pressure." You purred, trailing a finger down his chest.

"I mean it, little momma. Just relax and let me put you to sleep and I will fuck your brains out however you want when we get to..." He growled back, losing his words as you ground your ass against him again.

You gave another breathy moan. The taunting driving him crazy, as he brought his free hand to tangle in your hair, his breathing becoming more rapid as you felt his chest rise and fall heavily against you.

You slid your hand in your pants, brushing your finger tips over his knuckles as you made your way to your entrance.

Ramsay shifted under you and let out a deep sigh as you grabbed his hand and brought it down with yours. His other hand gripping your hair tightly.

He made a noise of longing as you slid his finger inside of you with yours. You felt the hot wetness of yourself and longed to feel his dick inside of you.

"I didn't tell you that you could do that." He breathed as pushed his finger further in you.

"Good thing I didn't ask." You purred, removing your finger from yourself and slowly pushing it in his mouth.

He took your finger in his mouth gratefully, as if taking the antidote to a poison, and sucked, moving his tongue along it. As he sucked your finger he slid another of his fingers inside you, moving them slowly as he swept his thumb over your sensitive spot.

You gave a small noise and shifted again, pulling your finger from his mouth.

"Again." He demanded.

"Mm, I'm supposed to be sleeping, remember?" You taunted, dropping your hand.

"I said again." He growled, sinking his teeth almost painfully hard into your neck.

"And what do I get?" You asked with a pout, looking into his face, hardly able too see even the whites of his eyes in the dark.

"What do you want, baby girl?" He panted, pushing his fingers further into you.

You ground against his pants again, setting a slow pace rubbing against him.

"God, you're so impatient." He chuckled, before giving a small moan, as you pushed harder against him.

You suppressed a startled gasp, as he shifted under you and laid you down in the backseat if the SUV. He cracked the window slightly to drown out any noises you may make.

If poor Alyn knew what was happening in this back seat he was good at ignoring it as he turned up the radio, cracking his own window and lighting a cigarette.

Ramsay tugged down your pants, and hastily slid down his own as he gingerly crawled up your body and slid into you.

"Oh god." You sighed, as he relaxed into you, shifting you more to your side to position himself better, holding you a bit awkwardly as he hissed in pain moving his shoulder. You pulled one leg completely free of your pants and threw it over his hip, pulling him into you.

He panted against your ear, pushing against you deeply.

He took his time and made slow, deep movements against you. He was enjoying it, and you had no complaints as he slowly rolled his hips against yours and massaged his fingers gently into your breast, swirling his thumb against your nipple as you clutched at his shirt and fought the urge to let noises escape you.

"Five minutes out, boss." Came Alyn's raised voice, making you jump forgetting you and Ramsay were not alone.

Ramsay gave a small sigh.

"This will be continued, baby girl. Don't let yourself get dry. I didn't get dinner." He whispered.

"Or ice cream." You giggled, giving a small moan of protest as your husband pulled away from you.

"Or ice cream." He chuckled, helping you fix your clothes and then fixing himself.

The cold wind ripped at you as Ramsay helped you from the vehicle and the dogs scrambled out of the back. He gripped your hand tightly as he led you towards the front door that had opened wide.

Dreadfort manner was intimidating looking. And always looked unlived in. The curtains always drawn. No over the top front garden. Just tall stone walls and wrought iron fences.

Not that it wasn't a house to die for, you just thought it could look a little more cheerful. However, your father in law was really not a cheerful man.

Roose Bolton was a tight lipped man who never looked pleased about anything. He was stern and quiet. And always spoke in a deadly voice like venom. Complete opposite of loud and wild Ramsay. Which was probably why the didn't get on very well. Roose was displeased with Ramsay for starting the Bastard's Boys a few years back, and then the drama that had resulted in the death of Ramsay's older brother, Domeric. It had been a year and a half since you had seen your father in law. Ramsay received orders or instructions from Roose via messenger of some sort, though Ramsay played by his own rules. You really hoped the cranky old man knew you were coming.

"Ramsay. (Y/n)." A man said, bowing you and your husband in.

You gave a small smile as Ramsay dropped your hand.

"Get her settled in, will you? Is my father asleep?" Ramsay said looking at the man.

"No sir. He is in his study, waiting on you." The man replied, then turning to you "if you'll follow me, ma'am."

Ramsay gave you a quick kiss, "remember what I said." He whispered with a wink and smirk as he set off down the opposite end of the house.

You sunk down into the luxurious bed with a sigh. It was so nice. You'd have to have Ramsay get you one. You closed your eyes, your body suddenly feeling very heavy as you heard the door snap closed across the room.

"My little pet better not be asleep." Ramsay threatened, flipping the light switch off and stripping his clothes.

"No baby, just resting my eyes. Waiting on you." You said, giving a small gasp as you felt Ramsay's hand come to rest on your thigh.

"Why aren't you naked?"

"I don't know. Habit? I just laid down. Maybe I just like when you undress me." You replied, peering at him through the darkness.

"Is that so? Maybe I hate undressing you. All these frilly, lacey panties. You don't need em. They get in my way." Ramsay frowned, yanking your bottoms down.

"Liar." You said, sitting up and shedding your shirt. The room was cold and gave you chills. You gave a violent shiver and laid back down.

"You know better than to call me a liar, baby doll." He sneered, laying beside you.

You narrowed your eyes and watched his dark profile from the corner of your eye. You could see he was frowning deeply, pain written plainly all over his face, even in the dark. He was holding his shoulder again. You scoot closer to him, running your nails over his skin, lightly.

"Sit on my face?" He suggested into the darkness.

"No. You're hurting. Let me fix you." You said, climbing on top of him.

He hummed his approval as you kissed down his body, his rough hands wrapping in your hair. You laid your cheek against his warm skin, kissing at his hips as his throbbing length rested between your breasts.

You made to push yourself down further when he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you up to him. He planted a harsh kiss to your lips before shifting and pushing you down into the bed.

"When's the last time I had a piece of ass?" He asked, pushing himself up and fighting to keep a nonplussed expression.

"I... I dunno baby. It's been awhile." You admitted with a small frown. You really did not want to do that tonight. More than anything you just wanted to go to bed. You were exhausted.

"Tomorrow then." He said, falling back into the bed with a sigh, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him.

He had you pinned and it was difficult to find a comfortable place to lay. But, this was the norm. Like we was afraid you'd run away if he didn't hold you close to him all night. He always went to bed after you and woke before you.

You gave a small sigh, snuggling into him as best as you could and finally falling asleep after listening to his heavy breathing in the darkness.


	8. Christmas blues

A ray of sunlight across your face woke you up. You peeked your eye open, Ramsay still passed out beside you, his arm wrapped around you. His busted watch on the bedside table said it was 10:30.

Slowly you eased his arm off you and slid out of bed. He shifted and you froze, watching him. You weren't sure why but being awake before him made you feel apprehensive. He didn't like it. Said it made him worry. You weren't sure what he meant by that.

You crossed the room and quietly opened your bag, rummaging around for clothes. You closed the bathroom door as silently as you could.

The hot water pouring over you seemed to ease your aching body and relax you.

You were sitting on the bathroom counter halfway through your make up when Ramsay walked in. You glanced at him through the mirror. He looked awful, one eye tired and the other swollen halfway shut, and bloody where it should of been white.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip but said nothing as he turned on the shower. He rested his chin on your back, wrapping his uninjured arm around your middle as he waited on the water to warm up.

"How do you feel?" You asked timidly, after you finished running the blush over your cheeks.

He gave a small grunt and pulled away from you, stepping into the shower.

You met a plump and kindly looking woman in the kitchen. This was your new mother in law. Walda. 'Fat Walda' Ramsay said mockingly when he had told you. She was considerably younger than Roose. She couldn't be more than 9 or 10 years older than you, you'd put her at a solid 35, while Roose was in his mid 50s. Buy hey, more power to her. Had a sugar daddy. Good for her. She seemed kind and always wore a genuine smile in the pictures you saw on Facebook and Instagram.

"Breakfast, dear?" She asked you. You gave a nod. She knew who you were and you her, so there was really no need for a formal introduction.

"Whatever you want, I'll have the cook prepare. You can wait in the dining room if you'd like. No need for you to be cooking. I'm sure you're exhausted. Roose said you came in around three this morning."

Again you nodded. "Thank you. Just some eggs and toast will do." You smiled, leaving the kitchen to the dining room.

There sat Roose and Ramsay. You'd never know they were father and son. They weren't similar in anything, except a few habits; constantly checking the time and that same calculating look. They were deep in conversation and you frowned taking your seat beside Ramsay, who had already started drinking.

"(Y/n)." Roose said, inclining his head slightly as a way of greeting.

"Good morning." You smiled kindly, as Ramsay snorted into his glass.

You glared at him. "A bit early for drinking, don't you think?"

Ramsay sat the glass down and returned your icy glare. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

You pursed your lips and pulled your phone from your pocket. Time to catch up on drama and rumors from the night before. Nothing overly interesting, but many shares from the " _wild west style shoot out_ " that was being linked to gang violence and rivalry were plastered and shared all over your feed.

Walda took her seat beside her husband and Ramsay caught your eye giving an evil smirk. You rolled your eyes, setting your phone down on the table and clearing your throat.

"So, um, Rams and I have some exciting news. Come summer we will be a family of three."

Walda gave an excited gasp, bringing her hand up to her mouth and smiling. "How wonderful!"

Roose ran his pale eyes over you and his son, giving a small nod. "Congratulations."

Ramsay raised his glass in toast to himself before downing the contents.

You gave a smile despite yourself. Every time you thought about it more excitement built inside if you. It was like your heart could sing.

"How long are you staying?" Walda asked.

"Until Christmas dinner is over." Ramsay said.

Roose nodded, resting his fingers together. "Speaking of, we are having dinner tonight. Your men need to be here."

Ramsay gave a small nod, shifting in his seat to pull out his cigarettes and lighter. You glanced him over. It was strange to see him so casual. Jeans and a simple shirt. He was usually semi-formal, but it was nice to be reminded he was a regular guy from time to time.

"You should let Doctor Walkin see to your cuts, son." Roose said, running his eyes over Ramsay's face slowly.

"Eh, maybe later. But I think my shoulder is fucked. No air bags is not recommended. Might as well been on my bike." Ramsay mumbled through his cigarette as he lit it.

"And we are sure it was the Lions?" Roose asked, frowning in distaste at his son.

Ramsay nodded, "at least the little bitch boy's men. Fucking cunt. What is he now, like twenty one?"

"As if you have room to talk." Roose said coldly.

Ramsay gave a shrug, "someone has to keep things wild."

Roose scowled, "And now we have whatever this is going on. We were a clean, underground operation, Ramsay."

"And now look, at least five times as much money comes in."

A plate of breakfast foods was set in front of you and you gave a small sigh. You were starving.

"But you're letting things get out if hand. Control yourself and your men or I will put an end to it. You've really made a mess of the last forty eight hours." Roose said, picking up his knife and fork.

Ramsay leaned back in his chair, puffing up. You cringed slightly, waiting on him to explode, but it didn't come.

"Just give me the time to put an end to that little bitch and I'll back off."

You gave your husband a side long look, unsure what to think. But you were willing to bet he was lying.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Ramsay had hardly touched his food. You frowned when he rose from his chair to leave.

He said nothing to you as he left the room. It stung. He never ignored you or missed an opportunity to play up the perfect gentleman.

You excused yourself and hurried off after your husband.

"Baby?" You asked quietly, pushing the bedroom door open.

Ramsay lay face down on the bed, breathing deeply.

"Everything okay?"

You placed your hand gingerly on his shoulder and he recoiled away from you with a hiss.

He gave a nod, "find me some tabs or something." His words were muffled in the pillow.

You nodded to yourself and left the room, wandering until you found a maid.

"Can I help you miss?" She asked kindly.

"Yeah, Ramsay needs, uhm, extensive pain management." You said rather awkwardly.

"Right away miss. It will be brought to him." She hurried away.

You wandered the house for awhile more before entering a room full of boxes.

You peered into the closest box. It was full of Christmas decorations. You smiled to yourself, shifting the decorations around.

You pulled your phone out and opened a Christmas playlist, determined to decorate the bleak place.

Slowly, you drug everything to the large living room and began pulling things out and humming along to the songs as you hung tinsel and stockings along the mantle.

Walda walked in and scared you on accident.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a quiet voice, almost afraid.

You gave her a long look and then smiled, "we are going to have Christmas. Whether the men like it or not. Fuck them and their shitty holiday spirits. We need a tree. Largest one you can get."

Walda gave a dazed nod and left.

Two hours later three men brought in a large spruce and set it in the corner you had designated for the Christmas tree.

"Thank you, gentlemen." You said cheerily pulling a tangle of lights from a box.

You were standing on tiptoe hanging ornaments when Ramsay's voice sounded behind you.

"What are you doing?" He asked, glancing around.

You squeaked and turned around. You gave him a strange look. Did people not understand what decorating meant? You gestured to the tree as you took him in. His eyes we glassy, arm in a sling, looking disheveled and yet like he didn't care about anything at this particular moment.

Ramsay gave you an uncharacteristically soft look and walked over to you, taking the ornament from your hand and hanging it in the place you were trying to reach.

You gave a warm smile, picking up a box of more ornaments.

You did more watching than decorating as Ramsay hung the ornaments on the tree and belted out the songs. You smiled to yourself, situating the skirt around the bottom of the tree. When you stood up again, Ramsay was holding out the angel tree topper.

You took it, glancing up at the tree. He keeled down.

"Up ya get." He said.

You slung your leg around his neck as he gripped your thighs with his good hand. You shifted your weight off his shoulder as he stood up. With a bit of difficulty you managed to get the topper on the tree.

You slid carefully from his shoulders and took a step back, examining the tree. Ramsay looped his arm around you shoulders, placing a cigarette between his lips.

"Father will be pissed. I love it." He chuckled as the household butler came in.

You both turned to look at the man.

"Master Ramsay, Damon is here to see you." The man said, bowing in Damon and his new wife.

' _Trash_.' You thought to yourself taking the woman in. She looked like a back alley crank whore. She might have been very pretty if she didn't engage in drug use. At least Damon had dressed her nice for the dinner.

Ramsay left your side and gripped Damon's hand. Both men looked a real mess, but Ramsay had clearly gotten the worst of the impact.

"(Y/n), this is Charlotte." Damon said, giving you a nod.

You hitched a smile, "pleasure." You shook the woman's hand politely, your skin crawling.

"Nice to finally meet you." She said with a stupid smile. She and Damon had had a private ceremony in Sin City, where he had met her just a few hours before. Ramsay had laughed himself silly when he found out about it.

"So, uh, the babe here needs a little pick me up." Damon said to Ramsay, who gave a nod.

"How much?" Your husband asked, taking your hand and leading you to the couch.

"Two should be good for a few days." Damon said, sitting on the seat opposite.

Ramsay nodded and left you alone in the room with the guests.

You stared at your lap, picking at your nails, feeling the gaze of the whore on you.

"Congratulations, by the way. Ramsay told us Friday night after all that shit at the bar." Damon spoke up, shrugging out of his jacket.

You looked up at him and smiled, "Thank you. We're pretty excited."

"I can tell." Damon chuckled, as Ramsay reentered the room with a plastic baggie and a tray.

He exchanged both for a wad of cash.

You watched Damon situate the tray, preparing a line of the fine white powder. Ramsay sat beside you, lacing his fingers in yours after pocketing the cash.

"So what are we going to do about the bar? I mean that's a big blow to our profit." Damon asked, sliding the tray into the woman's lap and stuffing the bag in his pocket.

Ramsay glanced at you, waiting on your answer. But you were too busy watching the woman snort the powder, licking the tray clean after she had inhaled most of the substance. Ramsay nudged you and gave you a look.

"Well" you said slowly, slightly taken aback that your opinion on the subject mattered, "Oly and I want to rebuild. Something big. With all it was insured for we have the money to build the biggest bar in the city. Maybe run girls and drugs out of it."

"There you have it then. Rebuilding. Alcohol, drugs, bitches, and money. Doesn't get much better than a one stop shop." Ramsay said, lighting another cigarette And taking a long drag, "Where are the rest of the boys?"

"Dunno. But, it's only five. They'll be here." Damon said, wrapping his arm around Charlotte.

"They better be. I don't condone tardiness. How are the two kids?"

"Paid them nicely and set em up with plenty to keep them sedated until they aren't sore anymore."

You rose from the chair and walked across the room. A newspaper clipping had caught your eye, pinned to a board. You felt Ramsay's gaze on you as you unpinned the article.

 _Mafia Related Assassination_ the headline read, with a picture of Ramsay's brother's old house surrounded by caution tape and a group of cops.

' _Domeric Bolton, heir to Bolton Ammunitions Fire Arms, and his wife were found dead execution style in their home late saturday..._ '

You pulled the picture closer to your face and squinted at one cop. You knew that face. Realization hit you and you gasped. You hurried back over to Ramsay and thrust the paper in his face.

"What about it?" He asked, shoving your hand away.

"This cop. Look at him. It's the Greyjoy!" You practically shouted, unfolding the rest of the article and glossing over the words until you saw his name. "Listen. Officer Theon Greyjoy was first on the scene and gave our journalist's information that the assault on the family was a merciless inside job."

Ramsay ripped the article from your hands, his eyes narrowing at the article.

"Mother fucker." He muttered, rising from his chair. He gave you an excited look, his eyes glittering in a psychotic way. "But, go get ready for dinner. I'm sure Fat Walda can find you a dress."

"Baby doll, I need help." Ramsay said from the room.

You stepped out of the bathroom to find Ramsay struggling to fix his tie. You suppressed a grin as you walked over to him to straighten his tie and smooth out his dinner jacket.

"That sling really clashes with the tie." You said, with a laugh.

Ramsay scowled, but gave a small shrug.

"Well, now I need your help." You added, turning your back to Ramsay. He slowly zipped the back of your dress. You waited for a sexual touch or even remark, but nothing came as you sat on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of heels.

Dinner was a very crowded affair. Many men and their wives, lovers, and/or whores filled the large dining room.

Some men old, some younger. All at different levels and statuses within the hierarchy, but all as equally involved.

You sat between Ramsay and Damon, much to your displeasure. You preoccupied yourself with toying with Ramsay's hand, bored with the men's arguing and tuning them out.

Ramsay danced his fingers under your dress and you felt yourself longing for him. You shifted in your seat, giving your husband a dirty look. He didn't look back at you, but pretended to be interested in the conversation he was engaged in with his father and a man you only knew by Karstark.

Ramsay moved his hand further up your leg, his fingers inching ever closer to your entrance. He gave you a frown when he reached the thin fabric of your underwear before turning his attention back to his father.

You picked up your glass to get a drink, inhaling a loud gasp, choking on your drink as you felt Ramsay roughly shove his first two fingers inside you.

You were suddenly aware of every eye on you. An egg could have probably been fried on your face by how hot you suddenly became in embarrassment.

"Something you'd like to say dear?" Karstark asked, eyeing you resentfully.

You set your glass down and rolled your shoulders forward, "No sir. I apologize. I have a sore throat. Just a bit scratchy." You lied, your face burning hotter.

You saw Ramsay chew his lip, suppressing a smirk, his eyes glittering, relishing in your embarrassment. God, how you could kill the fucker. He made a deep movement inside of you. You shifted, taking a deep breath, and another sip of your water.

"A sore throat, huh?" Ramsay panted, pushing you into the wall and kissing along the curve of your neck. "I'll give you a sore throat."

You clutched at his back, pulling him closer to you, "you are an evil man. Why would you..." but your words were lost as your husband took your bottom lip between his teeth.

You let out a small moan in his mouth as Roose cleared his throat. Ramsay pulled away from you and turned to his father.

"You wanted to speak with me, son?" Roose said, glancing at his watch.

"Yeah, I had an interesting conversation at the police station yesterday." Ramsay said, grabbing your hand and leading you to the living room.

There sat Ben and Damon with their women. Roose made a noise in the back of his throat when he glanced around the festive room, but said nothing as he took his seat by the fire. He propped his elbows up on the arms of the high backed chair and waited while Ramsay poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a seat beside you.

"I was basically offered amnesty by Stark." Your husband said, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

Roose leaned forward slightly, "meaning?"

"He came in and spoke to me before letting me go. Said his officers are being targeted and we could possibly work together. Said he could bring me Dom's killer." Ramsay went on.

"What are you proposing, son?"

You watched Ramsay from the corner of your eye.

"Give me free rein, father. Let me do it my way. Double cross the cops. Let me mirk the Lannister's and I can bring you the man who killed my brother." Ramsay said, pulling the newspaper article from his breast pocket and slamming it down on the table.

Roose pierced Ramsay with the same calculating look you often got from your husband.

"How can I know you wouldn't send us all to our graves?" Roose asked, rising from his chair.

Ramsay clenched his jaw, and gave a bitter laugh. "Trust me."

"I did once, Ramsay. It resulted in two separate six foot holes in the ground." Roose said striding past you, snatching up the article.

Ramsay stood abruptly. You felt the anger pouring from him.

"That wasn't me!" He shouted, kicking over the coffee table, glass shattering and whiskey seeping into the white carpet.


	9. this means war

You were enjoying the back rub Ramsay was giving you as you sat in his lap and listened to the men talk when the urge to puke hit you.

You made a pitiful noise and stood abruptly, all but running from the room. Ramsay watched you leave but said nothing as you left.

' _Oh God. Please don't let the whole pregnancy be like this_.' You thought to yourself, propping your head up on your hand, resting your elbow on the toilet seat.

You closed your eyes and took a deep, shaky breath as you heard your phone vibrate on the counter.

You rose to your feet, grabbing your toothbrush and phone.

 _[Olyvar: hey, just checking in and making sure you're good.]_

 _[You: yes. At the in laws. Be back Christmas night. Need to have a staff meeting to discuss alternate pay until we get rebuilt.]_

 _[Olyvar: Alright, I'll let everyone know.]_

You stood there brushing your teeth and scrolling through your Facebook. People sharing stupid shit. Nothing of interest, remembering the article from this morning. You would make a point of reading it in the next couple of days.

You crawled into bed with a sigh, pulling the covers up around you, rolling on to your side and tucking your hand under the pillow, scrolling through your phone some more with your free hand. This set of sheets was so soft against your bare skin. They may just make their way home with you.

Ramsay came in a short while later, saying nothing until he came out of the bathroom adjusting his shorts, casting his sling aside, and climbing into bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, wrapping his arm around you and pulling your back into him. His skin was so warm. He was always warm. It was nice.

You held up your phone, "build a sandwich and we will tell you what kind of vacation you should go on."

He gave you a look and chortled, "and?"

"Give me a minute. I have three more questions." You said, losing focus as he gently ran his palm over your stomach.

"Says I should go on a cruise."

"Do you want to?"

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dark ceiling, thinking.

"No." You finally replied, "not really a boat person."

"Not even if I drew you like one of my French girls?" Your husband quipped, with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and gave a small laugh. "No. Not even then."

"Fat Walda wants to take you shopping tomorrow." Ramsay said, propping himself up on his elbow with a small grimace.

You snuggled into him, kissing his chest, and inhaling him deeply. You loved the way he always smelled. It was relaxing to you.

"What time?" You asked, your lips against his skin.

"Dunno. Don't guess it really matters when." He replied, running his finger down the curve of your spine, giving you chills.

"What will you do?" You purred.

"Wait on you to get back, I guess. Go to the warehouse or something." He said leaning into you and nibbling your ear.

You leaned into him more with a sigh before emotions over took you and drew a shaky breath.

"Hm?" He asked pulling away from you running his eyes over you questioningly.

"I'm going to get fat and ugly and you won't want me anymore!" You sobbed hysterically.

Ramsay gave a laugh that made you cry harder.

"Shut up." He growled in a husky voice, rolling on top of you and pressing his lips to yours, struggling to slide out of his shorts.

You whimpered against his lips but refused to kiss him back as he finally managed to get his clothing off.

"It's true." You said defiantly, hit tears leaking on your cheeks.

"I told you to shut up." He growled again, forcing his tongue in your mouth.

"Stop." You pleaded.

"Not until you quit acting stupid." He replied, grabbing your breast firmly. It was slightly painful. Your body was making many rapid changes all of the sudden, it seemed.

You gave a sniff, grabbing his hips as he ground against you.

"Promise?" You whispered, closing your eyes.

"Baby girl, if I didn't want you, you wouldn't be right here." He whispered in your ear.

"But look at Damon and Alyn. They're fucking a different woman every week even though they're married." You muttered, regretting the words as soon as they fell from your mouth. You closed your eyes tightly, waiting on the explosion.

Ramsay pushed himself up and grabbed your face with one hand, "look at me."

You didn't dare disobey as you heard the anger in his voice.

"Do I look like either of those two fucks?"

"No."

"No. I'm not. They are disgusting. You are mine. Everything about you belongs to me. You are everything I need." He said firmly, narrowing his good eye at you. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir, I understand you."

"Mouth on my dick. Now." He said, falling on to his back.

Slowly you crawled onto him, kissing down his body as he tangled his hand in your hair.

You glanced up at him through your lashes before taking him in your mouth. He inhaled deeply, pushing your head down on him, making you gag slightly. The action made your stomach turn over unpleasantly. You stilled for a moment, trying to master yourself.

When you were sure you wouldn't throw up you pressed your tongue firmly against him and began to move up and down him. His breathing becoming heavy, his grip becoming tighter in your hair, and he let a deep moan fall from his mouth.

"Deeper." He demanded in a hoarse whisper.

You pulled away from him and rested your head on his hip looking up at him through innocent eyes, "I can't daddy. The baby says no. I really don't want to throw up anymore today. Please."

You watched him frown deeply, before pushing himself up and giving a nod, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him.

"Get my belt." He growled in your ear.

Your chest tightened. You really did not want to feel any kind of pain or discomfort. But you weren't about to say anything along those lines. You had already upset him.

"Now baby girl."

Slowly you climbed off the bed and walked to the bathroom, pulling his belt from his discarded pants. But then you saw his tie laying on the bathroom counter, an idea forming. You held it tight, clenching your jaw as you walked back to the bed.

"Hands." You said, climbing on top of Ramsay, your grip tight on the tie.

Ramsay quirked a brow and held his hands up. You slid up to sit on his chest and grabbed his hands pulling them above his head and quickly tightening the tie around them, a bit satisfied at his discomfort.

You watched him smirk, resting his hands under his head, masking the pain in his shoulder, waiting on you to make your move.

With one hand you gripped his throat, feeling him swallow as you dug your nails into his skin.

"It's your turn." You whispered, running your other hand gently down his side before digging your nails in.

He made a noise, jerking slightly, closing his eyes and letting his smirk broaden.

"Hurt me baby girl." He coaxed, opening his eyes again.

You tightened your hand around his throat as you pushed down his body until you rested against his throbbing cock.

You ground your hips deeply against his, coating him in your sticky wetness, before grabbing him with your free hand and guiding him into you.

You sighed, arching your back, rolling your hips into his.

"Harder." He said, watching you.

"Shut up." You growled, narrowing your eyes at him and tightening your grip on his neck until you could feel his hammering pulse.

A manic glint shining in his eyes as he clenched his teeth with a twisted grin.

You rolled your hips firmly against his until it hurt you, letting a deep moan escape you as you threw your head back, clutching his side again. He gave another violent jerk under you and you felt the blood well under your nails.

You pulled your hand away, grinding your hips again, bringing your free hand up to trail over your nipples.

Ramsay panted out a moan, shifting under you, canting his hips up into yours. You felt his body tense as he sat up, looping his bound hands around you, pulling you into him, clashing his mouth with yours.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted your hand on his neck and pressed your thumb firmly above his Adam's apple.

"I saidharder." He growled, biting down on your neck and pulling the skin roughly between his teeth.

You gave a breathy laugh, pushing your thumb harder into his airway as you dug your nails into his back and throwing your hips against his until it became uncomfortable.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes as you felt him move against you. His chest heaving against you. His pulse pounding. The vibration of his noises against your hand at his throat. The feeling of clutching at his neck as he swallowed hard and struggled to breathe.

"Open your eyes baby doll. Let me see you come undone." He whispered against your ear.

You gripped him harder and pushed deeper but didn't open your eyes. You enjoyed denying him something he wanted.

"Open. Your. Eyes." He demanded, wrapping his fingers in your hair and pulling your head back.

"No." You muttered through a sigh.

"If you don't give me what I want I will make you do it all over again, andIget to be the master of pain." He growled.

"I said to shut the fuck up." You hissed back, heaving a deep sigh as your body tensed ready to release.

"Come on baby. Do it for me." He whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Mm, beg me." You whispered back.

You felt him tense under you and still in his actions, breathing heavily.

You peeked your eye open at him, dropping your hand from his throat, watching him take every inch of you in, grinning.

"Please let me see what I do to you baby girl." He purred softly, pushing himself firmly into you.

You sucked in a breath, throwing your eyes open and taking him in.

"Will you say it again?" You breathed, watching his every movement.

He gave you a wicked smile and blinked slowly.

"Let me lay you down and fuck you like you need. Please."

You gave a whimper, and nodded.

He pulled his hands from over your head and held his wrists out to you. You fumbled with the tie until it was loose enough for him to wrench his hands apart.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. Leaning into you to lay you back.

"Now, you have to let me see it happen or youwillbe punished." He whispered in his husky growl.

You gave a nod, "of course baby. Anything baby."

You gave a gasp as he slowly slid himself back into you.

He made slow, deep movements against you that sent your body into burning tingles. He watched you closely, daring you to disobey him.

"Scream my name when the moment comes. Let this whole damn house know that nobody could possibly feel better than you, my little pet."

You felt your heart leap in your throat and chest tighten at his words. Air refusing to enter you as he pushed into you without pause and brought his hand to rub against your sweet spot.

"Ra..." You tried to get out, but words were lost to you as every inch of you tightened and tingled.

Your grabbed his face, breathing hard, looking him in the eye as you felt your insides explode in pleasure.

You cried out, pushing your head back into the bed, struggling to keep the ecstasy silent as he let out almost a roar, falling into you, gripping the blankets under you.

It had been awhile since you awoke with such a sweet ache between your legs.

You gave a small stretch and Ramsay rolled toward you, wrapping his arm around you tightly.

You gave a warm smile, burying your face into the crook of his neck, "good morning baby."

"Mm." He responded running his hand along your stomach, softly.

"Do you want a little boy or a little girl?" You asked, resting your hand on top of his.

"Boy." He responded immediately with a deep sigh as he pushed himself down the covers to rest his cheek on your stomach and kissing your skin softly.

"But if it's a girl?" You asked a bit apprehensivly.

"Hm. I guess I have plenty of guns and men employeed to keep any little punks away." He said after a few moments.

You gave a giggle, scratching your nails across his scalp.

"Feel up to shower sex before I leave?" You asked shifting to run your fingers down his back.

"That what my queen wants?" Your husband asked, pushing himself up a bit, resting his chin between your breasts and looking up at you like a dog waiting on you to drop your food.

"Only if it is within the king's power to give it." You whispered.

"That's the perks of being a king." He replied with a wink as he pushed him from the bed, with a frown and pained noise.

"Baby, if you're hurting, it can wait until I get home." You said, sitting up and watching him roll his shoulder slowly.

"I've had worse. And I'm not going to ever pass up on fucking you. Especially in the morning. You're sweeter in the morning. Warmer in the morning. Thicker in the morning." He replied, turning back to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the edge of the bed, where he fell to his knees and buried his tongue deep inside of you.

You spread your legs wider, pushing into his face, as he wrapped his arms around your legs.

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to max capacity, as he nipped at your folds and placing firm bites to your sweet spot that made you jerk. But he would dart his tongue over the spot gently and rub the pain away with his tongue. It made you long for him even more as your body would quake at his touch.

"Baby..." You whimpered, gripping his face and pulling him up to you, clashing your lips with his.

He lifted you up, as he stood. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist to relieve his arm if your weight.

You slid from him, the cold tile of the bathroom floor almost painful on your feet. You bent over to turn the shower on and he took his opportunity to bury himself inside of you.

You gasped, grabbing at his leg behind you as he gripped your hip, ploughing into you again.

"I'm taking your ass. So relax into me baby girl." He purred, placing a kiss to the back of your neck.

You whimpered, giving a nod, and swallowing thickly as you felt him pull himself from you.

He ran his hand down your back, gently tracing his finger tips over your ass; his other hand groping your breast, pulling and rubbing against your overly sensitive nipples.

"You're not wet enough, get in the shower." He said gently.

You stepped into the hot water, a bit apprehensive about what was to come. The last time had been a disaster. But then again, Ramsay was raving drunk and angry about whatever had not gone according to plan for him that day. He had hurt you, or been too rough to say the least. He ignored your pleas and cries. It had resulted in him ignoring you for two days, and you never worked out if he was angry at you or at himself. But he didn't press the issue and never spoke of the incident. Any other time he had ever fucked you in the ass was null and void, because you were always too drunk to remember. This would be the first time with both of you sober, and it made you a bit anxious.

The hot water was nice on your cold skin, and the soft movements Ramsay made with his hands made your thighs slick with more than just the water from the shower.

He pulled you back into him and slid his fingers inside you, moving slowly. You relaxed into him, grinding yourself against him and his wet, slick body.

He hummed in longing, pulling you closer, moving his fingers firmly and slowly sliding himself into your ass.

You drew a sharp gasp and whimpered, feeling your chest tighten. The pain, unpleasant and burning.

"Shh... relax baby girl. I won't hurt you. Give me all of you." He cooed, pulling his fingers from inside of you to trace over your folds and rub his thumb into you sweet spot as you felt your knees weaken.

You gripped the shower wall handle and relaxed, pushing yourself back into him.

He made a deep noise of pleasure, gripping your hip to hold you steady as ran his hand up the front of your body and grip your throat.

"Baby girl..." He moaned, moving deeply inside you, making you feel twisted up desire at the new sensations. He moved his other hand to your hip, pushing you flush to the shower wall.

The initial penetration pain gone now. He gripped you tightly as he pulled from you slightly to thrust again.

You ground into him again, discovering that being fucked in the ass could be an enjoyable experience; when your husband wasn't angry and drunk and you weren't so shit faced you couldn't remember it.

He ran his hand firmly up the curve of your spine as he moved in you again. You let a moan escape you and pushed back into him.

"Harder baby." You panted, groping for his hand and bringing it back to your pussy and inserting your fingers inside you with him.

"Oh god." Ramsay moaned, pushing into you harder, gripping your hip tighter, and letting you control his free hand.

You panted, rubbing your sensitive spot, feeling your body tighten in bliss.

He used slow firm movements, inside of you. His breathing became rapid, as primal noises escaped him. These noises quickened your pulse and you could hear the pounding in your ears.

"(Y/n), cum for me baby girl." He growled, pushing more aggressively into you.

"Push harder." You murmured through a moan, gripping his hand at your entrance and shoving his fingers inside you.

He did as you told him.

It was Ramsay who met his high first. He gave a small whimper, thrusting himself into you, gripping your hip tight, and clutching at your hand, lacing his fingers in yours.

His touches and noises pushed you to your breaking point and you met your release with a violent shiver, trembling as he pulled away from you.

You turned around, placing your lips to his.

"Feel better?" You whispered with a grin as you moved him out of the way of the hot water to wet your hair completely.

"My little momma knows how to take care of her daddy." Ramsay smirked, standing back to watch you wash your hair.

"Can I ask a question?" You asked, pulling your conditioner covered fingers through your wet hair.

"I imagine so." Ramsay replied, crossing his arms. How he hated questions.

"Why does everyone call you the mad dog?"

Ramsay snorted in amusement, "I'm a clinically diagnosed psycho."

You stared, not sure if he was being truthful or sarcastic. God, how little you knew about the man you had been married to for almost three years.

"But where does it come from?"

"I used to fight. You know, boxing kind of shit." He shrugged, turning you around to wash your back.

"Were you good?" You asked, turning your head to run your eyes over him.

He gave a bemused tutt, "think daddy paid for my degree, huh?"

"Honestly didn't know it was legit." You said, quietly.

Ramsay held a degree in accounting. But you thought it was just a forged piece of paper. Self taught and learned when your father owned a mob and a multimillion dollar weapons manufacturing buisness. Ramsay had a thing for numbers. Sometimes it was almost like a borderline genius gift with numbers.

"Why do you do this?" You suddenly asked.

"Do what?"

"The whole mafia thing? Why didn't you get out?"

Ramsay gave a harsh bark of laughter, "Do you think there's any _getting out of it_?"

"Well, maybe not. But you don't have to be so involved. Do jobs from time to time or something." You said slowly.

"Baby girl, why would I not do something I'm good at?"

"I'm just worried. I mean, everything is different now. We are having a child." You said with a sigh.

You walked slowly down the hall, looking at various pictures on the walls when your phone rang.

You pulled it from you pocket, brows knitted together when you saw the name: _Tyene_.

"Hello?"

 _"Hey, you good? Because I just had some cop come asking about you."_

You frowned, "Greyjoy?"

 _"Yeah, that's his name. But I didn't say anything. I'm no snitch. I'm also not blind. I know the game. Secret is safe with me. But if we're going to be out of business for awhile I want in. I need some way to make money. I'm a bit rusty, but I can remember how to play."_

There was a click on the other end. You glanced down at your phone. Fate had a funny way of working things out. As you stood there thinking voices from a few doors down caught your attention as you heard some say Ramsay's name. Slowly you crept forward.

 _"All I'm saying is that if the psycho doesn't watch it Roose will put a permanent end to him. I hope I'm the one to do it. Then take a few rounds with the fine ass wife of his. I'm sure he keeps her locked away and she's tight as fuck."_ A man's voice said.

Anger and disgust welled inside you.

 _"Dude, shut the fuck up. I heard Roose tell Karstark the bitch is pregnant. Wouldn't it be some funny shit if it wasn't his? He'd probably do her in like he did his brother."_ Another voice said with a bitter laugh.

You trembled in rage, doing everything to keep yourself from bursting through the door. If only you knew who it was. But it didn't matter. Your husband's downfall was being plotted. Men could be so stupid. It was time for you to take matter into your own hands.

You did your best to enjoy your afternoon with Walda. She was an enjoyable person. You felt bad she was married to Roose. But, better her than you. She had funny stories and was sweet as candy. But as enjoyable as you found her the conversation you had overheard still ringing in your ears.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Walda asked, peering at you.

You looked up from the plate of food You were picking at, snapping out of your thoughts.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Just tired. The last four days have been crazy. And the little one and I haven't reached an agreement on what I can eat without seeing it again."

Walda gave a small nod, "well, let's get back. You need to rest. You look a bit peaky."

You simply nodded, grabbing up your shopping from the chair next to you and glancing around the shopping mall and all the last minute Christmas shoppers. Feeling dizzy as stood and clutching the table for support.

"(Y/n)?" Walda asked cautiously, casting around for one of the men Roose had sent along with you both.

Instantly a man helped you from the building and into the back of the car.

You drew a deep breath, closing your eyes.

"Sorry. I guess... Just stood up too fast." You muttered, resting your head back into the head rest.

Ramsay yanked the door open and scooped you up once the car had reached a stop. You raised your brows at him.

"My legs are not broken, you know." You said, pushing against him to set you down.

"Shut up." He growled, carrying you into the house.

"Really baby. I'm fine. Just tired and stood up too quickly, I guess. But I'm fine now, I promise." You said in a small voice.

But he ignored you and didn't say anything until he set you down on the bed, pulling your pants from you and sliding your hoodie up over your head. He yanked the blankets out from under you and motioned you to lay down.

You did as you were told, letting out a yawn. Ramsay tucked you in and sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through your hair.

"What happened?" He asked in a demanding whisper.

"Nothing. I told you. I'm just tired is all. Kind of been running nonstop since Wednesday night. Just need a nap." You said, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and closing your eyes.

You gave a small, welcoming sigh as your lips were met with your husband's. His busted lip not nearly as swollen or rough anymore. He rested his forehead on yours, placing his hand firmly on your stomach before leaving without a word. Sleep engulfing you almost at once.

You groaned as Ramsay repeatedly prod you in the arm.

"Wake up, doll. It's nine. You need to eat." He said, as you slowly opened your eyes.

"Is it dinner already?" You asked, rubbing your eye, frowning as you realized you had makeup on.

"Dinner? Baby doll, it's breakfast time. You didn't wake up for dinner. But you're going to wake up now. And you're going to be quick about it. I have to leave in an hour." Ramsay said, his usual air of patience gone.

"I slept through... so... huh?" You said sitting up, confused.

"Yes. It's Christmas Eve now. Get up. Get dressed. Eat breakfast." Ramsay replied, rocking on his heels, glancing down at his watch.

"I'm sorry." You said, staring at the floor.

"Don't worry about it. Just hurry up now."

You stifled a yawn as you walked into the kitchen, breakfast set out at the tiny kitchen table. You took your seat and tucked into your food gratefully as Ramsay set down a glass of orange juice down in front of you.

"Sorry. Apparently the only juice they drink." He said, walking to the sink to wash his hands.

You and orange juice had a love hate kind of relationship. Actually, just about all juice, or any sweet kind of drink. At one point you thought you could keep up with Ramsay's drinking by mixing with juice, kool-aid, whatever... But you learned quickly that you just were not destined to be an alcoholic.

"You said you're leaving, where are you going?" You said, downing the orange juice.

"Running some guns today. Shouldn't take too long. I'm just there to supervise." Your husband said, glancing at his watch again, muttering about it being busted; it was his favorite one.

"How are you feeling today?" Walda asked as you placed Christmas gifts under the Christmas tree.

You turned to the woman and gave a smile.

"Much better. Guess I'll have to learn to pace myself until the little one is born."

You placed your hand on your stomach and smiled to yourself.

"Gave us all quite a fright." Roose said, walking in behind his wife.

' _Fucking liar._ 'You thought savagely through your smile.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just haven't had the time to rest, especially with the whole bar fiasco."

"Speaking of, I wanted to have a word with you privately."

You swept your eyes over Roose and gave a nod. Oh, Ramsay would _not_ like this. What was taking this deal so long?

You followed Roose to his study and took your seat across the desk from him as he sat and shuffled a few papers.

He finally cleared is throat, propping his elbows up on the edge of the desk.

"Phone on the table please, my dear." He said quietly.

With a sense of foreboding you placed your phone on the desk, never breaking your gaze from your father in law.

He poured himself a glass of wine and stood from his chair.

"I know that Ramsay is your husband and that you love him. Or fear him. Whatever it is you both have between you. But you are carrying his child. That's the collar. Now clip the chain on him." He said, turning his back to you and staring into the fire, crackling in the grate.

You chewed your lip, leaning forward. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"My son is a psycho. Ramsay is his own warning. Surely you don't believe that he _loves_ you. Obsession. That's what he has for you. Not love. He regards what you say at the least. His attacks on the Lannister's will cease immediately or it will not end well for the child inside of you."

It was like being slapped in the face. "Excuse me? Are you _threatening_ me?"

Roose turned back to you and you looked daggers at him.

"No, dear. I'm explaining the rules. I like you. You're smart. You can keep my son in check. Do it, or you will lose everything that matters to you. I know you are rebuilding your little bar. My men will be employed there. Are we at an understanding?"

You ran your tongue over your top teeth and put on a sweet smile. "Yes, of course."

"This conversation never happened."

"What conversation?"

"Good girl. Run along now. Ramsay will be back from his run soon."

You snatched your phone off the table and stood. You hurried to the door.

"Remember, chain the mad dog up." Was the last thing Roose said before you slipped out the door.

You fell on to your bed, staring at the ceiling. What happens when the protector needs protecting? What the fuck were you going to do? How could you keep your husband from doing what he does best? How were you going to keep tabs on him? But more than that, what was he going to do if he ever found out?

You frowned, grabbing a pillow and burying your face into it. Your stomach feeling uneasy again. You screamed into the pillow. Angry. Afraid.


End file.
